Thoughts from an Autumnal Road

At dusk I realize that there is more behind than there is in front.

Sleeping freedom on this autumnal earth.

Tempest tossed my ego lost…and found, on this autumn’s ground.

The mystery of man, my foreign shadows, what I could be, this old tree, soon to be cut down, I earned a living but, I never earned my life.

2 thoughts on “Thoughts from an Autumnal Road”

  1. This is a theme that I keep returning to too Chris.
    Autumn is a word I seem to use so often, even 50 years ago.


    The clock is ticking
    Heart is flickering
    Blinking at the days

    Retinal occlusions
    Macular protrusions
    Fading features on a face

    Broken glass
    Heberden knows
    In fingers not on toes

    Sound’s last chance
    Virtual advance
    Ear muff to enclose

    Hair is thin
    Just hanging in
    Follicles forestalling

    Bitter sweet
    Taste buds delete
    Apart from in a morning

    What was it I sat down to write
    My mind is clearly wandering
    Off the path down autumn’s lane
    Deciduously daundering

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