journal of a writing man
Work in Progress
Autumn morning, Carhampton
When the first autumn breezes
tire of playing hurdy-games
with the squeaky weather-vane
topping the church at Carhampton
they leap down to raise white devils
from the summer-baked dust
waiting in the silent parking lot
before break-dancing dry leaf piles
into new drifts under the trees.
John Bailey
Somerset, September 2002
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