By Wendy Alford
A tumult of autumn leaves
whisks about my head,
thoughts take flight
as sharp gusts catch at birds
snatching them back and forth.
A cold splinter of sunlight
stabs through rusk-edged clouds,
which slide in unseemly haste
across grey-streaked sky.
All is unsettled, disjointed,
nothing quite belongs.
I'm caught up in this upheaval,
churning, gestating, coiled
within, strangely skewed views
of past and future
create shifting perspectives,
a sense of differently being,
where old thoughts seem odd.
As I lift and turn
in this jumble of leaves
I wonder just quite how
I will fall back
together.
Wendy Alford November 2013
Poem sent in by Bernie Bell