David Abbott


Ruddy autumn's leaf mould. Golden green. Jangling coin. Meet me in the woods. Whispering, hollering, singing. The misty curtaine fallz punctured by diffused lights - coral and bone coloured, eggshell blue. Each bell rings cleere between the black matrix of treeage. Folk melody, agri-core. Ebony mahog. Oak ash haw. Blackbyrd. Frost and thaw. Frayed nylon rope. Build a fire around your heart (a warning take from me). Keep close, hide and seek, be cloister-quiet, hold your stick firmly. Ash leaf, stick mould, emerald fountains, endless fancy. Frost crickle crackle, the dog and her reflection in a puddle is the warm centre of encircling winter. Leafy lulls. Repetitive walks same faces, dogs, trees, boot print straight into yesterday's. Show your face see if anyone notices. Of course I do of course I do.

December 1, 2022

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