Sunday, Around Midday (2)

By: Patrick

 

Walking back to my car,
And suddenly the present, uninvited, emerges.
It’s a cloudless, sunny day.
I take in the birds, the cars,
The voices of a couple of neighbours
On the other side of the road.
Autumnal colours
And all that stuff
That poets manage to capture so elegantly:
A tree that looks like a brocolli,
Leaves red as badly dyed hair.
It’s so simple,
Yet at this moment so miraculous.
I feel at peace,
Caught off guard.

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