Paul’s poems will appear here
Here is one
After the walk
Ferrule footprints left pressed into the mud
Foot trod figure of 8s where the walkers have stood
Half-pint sized welly marks and a collections of sticks
Rusty dust scattered shards of orange brown leaves the colour of bricks
A tree lined autumnal avenue – lazy grass verges lay at the side.
Boughs bend over to tunnel our vision upturned telescope like, the lane stretches out as the horizon slides
to a pin prick violet end.
A walk helps you look to look from another perspective.
Paw prints round puddles and bike tracks too;
the only thing missing is me and you.
© Paul Bateson 2017