i think i should begin posting even the most simple of writings here to force myself to write. this is my poem today. can the weather please turn cold !
I ate parsnips and carrots tonight,
glazed with honey,
topped with some small herb
that leaves little more than a green speck
against the orange.
Behind my bedframe
the wind moves through the eaves.
I would love to say
for certain
that autumn is here.
But every time I leave the house
I end up carrying my sweater
in the crooks of my elbows,
sweltering in shop queues,
drowning in regret.
Still,
the swallows have stayed
longer than I have ever known them to.
They perch and wait,
as though they know something
I don't.
Waiting for the rain
to come
and stick.
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