Gentle time disposed

 
We took a chilly walk
said  goodbye to Summer
Jack set up the pheasants,
watched a rabbit flash its tail
glanced back "This way?"
"Off you go" and he was gone.
I'd left my stick at home
walked  slow, the ground uneven,
badger sets and mole hills
examined, in their turn by Jack,
who marks them for tomorrow.
Every day he names each leaning tree.
Will the ash be here tomorrow?
Black leaves hang in mourning
the world is changing even here,
where simple nature,uncomplaining,
watches  seasons drift in the breeze
rain, storm, silent snow and sleet.

Crisp brown leaves and chestnuts
above the mull of this year's fall,
only oak leaf shapes identified.
Daffodils waiting with the foxglove,
an ordinary afternoon, what more ?
Gentle time disposed.