A change in the light
Subdues the horizon to an indistinct blur,
All our yesterdays - a hazy illusion -
Wood smoke rising from distant bonfires.All our tomorrows - mulch underfoot,
Last summer`s leaves falling and burning
As the light diminishes
And fierce hope is chilled.
I open my sketch book, applying colours at random.
Now I am old disorder is all I can see.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter,
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