Autumn Poetry

Autumn Poetry

This lovely piece by Viv was originally published in our old newsletter, Spokes of the Wheel (Mabon 2015 – volume 2 issue 3). Feature photo by Mark Hayes.

The sunlight is golden treacle
I can see it just over the rooftops
Over treetops
Just there

And I wait here in the cold, with my blankets
Woolly jumpers and artificial sweeteners
As morning plods on
As the sun rises
And by 10:30 it has hit our yard
And the oak trees sing

The air warms, and everything breathes again
Remembers that summer isn’t that long gone
As winter draws nearer, the days will be filled
With a thousand tiny deaths,
One hundred compromises.
But right now the autumn sun is dappled on my skin
There are still tomatoes on the vine
And honey
Golden treacle.

– Vivienne
Occult Church of the Covenant Noetica

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