Poem - An Autumn Day
Is it really morn?
My body still rests in heavy slumber
While my eyes glimpse fettered light as they slowly welcome the day
And my brain disputes the logic of the clock. The logic clock.
Brain adjusts to a day seemingly far earlier than it was yesterday.
But I rise; to a beautiful chill of nature’s fresh day.
Looking out of the window what will I see?
Crystallised frost on car roofs with iced windscreens?
Or rain-soaked road with droplets collected where they fell?
Or best of all, the sun slicing through natures rays in bolts from above.
A hot shower heralds the swift transition from chill to pure heat
Which stays in my flesh as I dress - to end up too hot.
How is it possible to be hot on such a fresh day?
But it’s welcome. An instant blanket of insulation before embracing outside.
The birds are waiting already, greedy for their autumn breakfast.
The car heating system roars unendingly, breathing on the condensation
Rasping, loud, constant, until the heat takes hold
And external views are only possible after blading all the glass
Front: leaning over the bonnet, mindful of keeping clothes away
Side and back: by now hands are numb, damp and cold.
Soon the car is a furnace of heat, thawing the damp
As the wheels roll over a carpet of orange, green and brown leaves
Which leap in to the air as we pass through, only to settle once more for the next disturbance.
We travel through avenues of majestic colour, like a tunnel
Such beauty only visible at this annual time.
And then we are there. Wheels crunch to a stop, and silence descends.
Stillness. Heavy air lingering, creating a muffled silence.
The car door, my boots, the russell of my jacket, my feet, my breath: the only sounds
As I head towards beauty’s call
Through the gate to a paradise of nature, not disturbed by humans since the dark cold night.
In the distance I hear the sawing rasp, in turn, melodious; deep and low
The stags are rutting, with their voices carrying through the still damp air.
What night have they had? The families of deer, in turn, themselves waking to the day
I’m an early intruder in to their solitude of badgers, foxes and pheasants.
Not forgetting the skylark, now awake, high above, so hard to see but a constant voice.
As I approach further in, my eyes can’t comprehend the beauty of simplicity around me
Cobweb after cobweb strung across gauze and thorned bushes
A world of its own, crisply visible through the struggling sun.
They are miraculously formed, with no host spider in sight
But wow, have they been busy over the past few hours.
And I continue on my walk, savouring the magic of my solitude with nature
Before I have to enter the working world and the beauty is lost to the day.
What follows is nine hours of practicality and function
Before the light shivers away, fast, once more.
And life returns to a chasm of blackness, harsh, with odd shadows of early night.
Again, I walk home from work, in dark, when only a few weeks ago
It was daylight, with warmth still in the sun’s force
But it’s with the thought of my welcome open fire with logs now dry
Hopefully having deposited the woodlice before entering my home
And so begins the evening, for a house now thawing from the day.
This is the time most sharply in contrast with summer.
Immediately, one room is sectioned off, for heating and warmth
While the rest of the house lays dormant, dead to any change.
Dinner starts to be prepared, the fire takes hold
And the evening gets ready for cocooned hibernation.
Eventually, a bath to rid me of the days damp and cold toes
A dinner to warm and still my hungry needy tummy
And a varying ‘while’ reading in front of the flames jumping
Or listening to wonderful music, while watching the live show
Of the fire dancing to its own rhythm of artistry
It is bed time once more.
With my welcome friends the hot water bottles
Sandwiched between feet and clutched to my tummy.
So, quietness descended again, with just cold nose protruding from the duvet
Until it is again time to gently open my eyes to the new autumn day, with all it holds.
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Like paintings, words have the power to connect. I share my poems here with you in the hope that they benefit others.