"All the leaves are brown..."

"all the leaves are brown

And the sky is grey"

 

The stillness of the pond

ruffled by a solitary magpie,

"one for sorrow",

head down,

pause to drink

and gone.

 

Pidgeon's quarrel,

flap and flutter,

while squirrels look on

and turn to beg for crumbs

from a passer by,

glued to his phone.

 

This quiet morning

the summer sun

dapples the grass

with splashes of green and gold,

but,

in my melancholy moment,

all the leaves are brown

and the sky is grey.