Harvest

I must have blinked and missed the twist
from summer into autumn;
last time I looked the poppies ravaged red
but now I’m left with stubble fields and empty nests
prickly like an old man’s beard:
such hush has fallen on the land
as if it’s all in waiting.

I must have blinked for you were gone:
last night I held you in my bed
but somewhere close to dawn you left
and here I am with anxious breath
till you remember how we laugh,
yes how we love,
till you remember and return to me.

I surely blinked for time has bled
the years rolled by and it’s long ago
we wandered through those open fields
turned to watch the lightning fork: when I was yet a child:
now every year as summer’s left
I turn my head and you’re there again
when autumn throws her golden net

just for me.

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