Wanting to go,
all the leaves want to go
though they have achieved
their kingly robes.they think of black earth,
they think of
white snow.
Stealthily, delicately
as a safe breakerthey unlock themselves
from branches.
And from their Royal Towers
they sift silently down
to become part of
the proletariat of mud.
September 1982
photo: Alet Les Baines, Languedoc, France by Alistair.
4 comments:
Love this, Alistair. Seems like MacCaig had a poem for every occasion, every mood……and I love the autumn. Beautiful photo too - very autumn, very France.
I love Autumn too. Thanks for the compliment on the photo - one I took while on holiday last month.
I just love the slant MacCaig puts on things.
That's a wonderful poem. McCaig has a warmth and humour that come through everything you share with us here. I am catching up on your blog after a week of mad busy-ness.
It certainly fitted the colours that week - now gone in the gales this week.
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