Remains of Summer

   
Cows can't decide to stand or lie  
swans bury their heads and snore  
stonechats pour scorn
on the gathering clouds  
in their huddle by the estuary wall  
   
Tired varnish flakes from Vixen's rail  
while her baggies dream
of a sail  
soon enough we'll haul her dry  
to escape the winter gales  
   
Along a well trodden path
past the blackberry swathes  
the churchyard gateway yawns  
eyes pause for a general's grave  
and the dead of two world wars  
   
It won't be long
before summer's gone  
and autumn leaves must fall  
the minnow and the mighty whale  
all answering time's call