Autumn reflection

 

The trees sigh, 

a time to let down their leaves

after gaining their glorious colours. 

I don’t sigh as I let down my hair,

the low sun catches the silver,

and I wear my brightest woollens. 

 

Blackberries are plumper,

apples blush on the tree.

The hazels kiss with promise

as rhubarb colours the gin,

the sweet peas breathe their last

and beans wave in the breeze. 

 

Autumn.

A time of reflection,

but not just over this year.

I look in the mirror

to see my mother looking back,

urging me to keep going. 

​

Liz Mills 2024