Interlude.

The air was heavy with late summer drowsiness,
Bees hummed, and birds scrabbled in the leaves
Beneath the trees by the river.
Leaves had fallen, some green, some turning
To red or gold, as the blanket of autumn
Hovered lazily just around the corner.
A flash of gold, of red, and the whisper of wings
As a goldfinch darted through the branches
Of the alder by the brook.
The grass, still green, but dark and tired now,
Cushioned each footfall, and murmured
Soft words of the falling of the year.

© 2ndwitch, 13/09/14