A Time to Reap

Season of leafmould, sudden rainfall,
Mushrooms growing against the trees,
Summer riches reduced to golden rags,
This burning-bonfire time is the best.

Summer’s tomb and winter’s herald,
I glory in your short-lived days.
Each one should be preserved and bottled,
Sipped and savoured like elderberry wine.

Russet pastel shades describe the landscape
Round about at September-time.
Plump red apples tumbling as they fall,
Cracked chestnut cases pulped underfoot.

Ashes of summer barbecues
Wisp their way in the mellow evening light,
Scatter on the ground, shrouded in leaf.
Awaiting the cold kiss of winter snow.

Mist haunts the fields, submerging a scarecrow,
Arms flung wide as he is absorbed,
A ghostly grin like a Halloween mask:
He cannot be killed who never was alive.

Season half-sunk in decline and self-pity,
Summer gently crumbling and browning,
The fading time a last warning
While the dark is rising all around us.