This month’s exclusive poem for patrons: Flare.
The trees in London are grey and bare at the moment. Just outside my study window there is one that flares to an astonishing shade of yellow in autumn. Looking at how it is now, and wondering over the miracle of being able to see it so differently in my mind’s eye, gave me this poem.
All my poetry is exclusive to my patrons for 90 days.
Exclusive Poem for Patrons: Flare
There are times in autumn
when no matter how hurried
or worried our days
we can be arrested
by the colour of trees.
the glare of leaves