I was helping out at GAD today. They hold a weekly wrier’s group, which I volunteered to come to. It was very interesting – the participants had a wide range of abilities. One of the warm-up exercises involved writing about a stimulus like a twig or leaf, so I quickly dashed off the following poem, which I thought I’d share with you.

—

Autumn winds blow

Cold as ice

Shaking brown leaves onto London concrete.

A thousand feet fall

Trampling crisp windfall

Lifeless. Dead

—

Yet next year the sun will return And with it, new life, new green London will again bloom.

Time flows like the mighty Thames

Grey now, yet soon blue as the summer sky.