I pretend it’s summer.
The swallows are still here.
Bats wheel at dusk.
Under a bush a hedgehog snuffles.
Berries ripen in the hedgerows.
Combines give way to blue tractors in the fields.
The earth is brown again. Rich, dark brown.
I can’t ignore the spiders on the wall,
I can’t ignore the spiders on the ceiling.

Explore posts in the same categories: Local, Nature, Poetry, Uncategorized, Wildlife

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8 Comments on “September”

  1. This is a lovely blog and that’s a fine poem. I’d like to link from mine. Is that OK?

  2. You’re here – – right hand column, under Writers’ Blogs.

  3. twilark Says:

    Many thanks. May I link back please?

  4. Thomas Davis Says:

    What a wonderful poem! I always associate spiders with creation stories since that is the nature of Spider Woman in the Navajo and Hopi traditions in New Mexico. Creation can be either filled with beauty or destructive, of course, but hedgehogs in the hedge rows! Nature is a song that never ends.

  5. twilark Says:

    Thank you. That is fascinating, I hadn’t come across spiders in that context but will follow up on it.

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