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