gold light

everyone is saying isn’t it lovely, under the bonus sapphire sky / but it isn’t right is it, they say, and I say no, but we need to wring every last drop out of these last warm days don’t we

and my heart aches like it always does this time of year / at the crispness, stillness, colours -

at the way the trees just know what to do and I wish we had a bit more of that conviction

everything has more meaning this time around / and my memories are a zoetrope of things that have been amazing and terrible and it makes me play songs on repeat more than usual

it’s the way gold light falls on a lawn I’m raking / looking up and seeing the brent geese coming back again like they always do / and that mildly alcoholic smell of fallen fruit in the gardens

the second the sun goes down on these surprise hot days, it’s blankets and tea again / and I’d almost forgotten how it felt to move my skin against a crisp cold sheet on waking

do some people just walk down the street as the seasons turn and not feel like they’re going to burst? / I load my camera roll to capacity, unsure what for

I suppose there’s something in it - the way it feels like it’s all building towards something. / we’re shedding the leaves of our year, too.