Paper Dreams

Take down the hammock –
faded by the sunshine;
wipe the guano
from the chairs
and the table
where we sat,
sipping lemonade;
stow them in the shed.

Light’s like fizzy,
liquid gold
this afternoon –
like the demijohn
in a musty coign, full
of wine from last year’s
russet apples.

The hedgerows wear
a shawl of silver mist;
a pearly trail in the grass
meanders past
the meadow to a hole
in the fence
where the deer
squeeze through.

The pond – partly
frozen over;
on the surface
a kaleidoscope
of leaves
amongst the reeds,
with scraps of sky
peeping through.

Put the cloth
and paper napkins
in a drawer
now summer is done.
A passing thought...
oh, that we could
fold ourselves into geese
and follow the sun.