Gusts of wind in my face, Tears of rain on my hair, Mist lingers on the river, Wood-smoke hangs in the air, A bitter-sweet season That smells of despair. I sit by the riverbank Where the trees turn to rust, Through tangles of grass Bony weeds thrust: Seasonal refugees, Gold turns to dust.
Tag: Sad
A sad sight in my garden provoked me to write a haiku
Wheelbarrow Rusty wheelbarrow Used to carry heavy loads Is now filled with tears
writing in north norfolk 