Harbinger of Autumn

 

Sky hangs low

A drizzled, damp time

One more swim

Stroll along the quay

Buckets and spades

Soon to be put away

An end of season day

We like to look in

The chandlers shop

Close to the pavement

The SUVs fast

From fish and chips in wells

Small bones

Crushed as he grabbed for comic

Hand not correctly grasped

I wake

intermediate night

my ear against his door

his breathing

I don’t know how to talk to him

I snatched him up

Pushed him hard against

The white washed wall

The car swerved

He cried.

Lived to be more than four