The milk white sky hangs around all day
Pale muted light softening the brightness
From burning embers of the dying season
Yet those colours are still calling to me
Hatted, booted, North Face coated head out
To capture colours conspicuously teasing
Burnt orange, blazing crimson, burning gold,
The snapper looking for autumn colour
Click-click-clicking in the woods
Leaves clinging on to life with a hint of rust
Defiant against gravity, gales and deluge
Transforming degenerating yet warmly pleasing
Lack of birds disturbs; Many heard but few seen
Hidden by branches still surprisingly green
The randomness of the change has no reason
Paler greens, muted chartreuse, shattered jade
The snapper looking for autumn colour
Click-click-clicking in the woods
The viewfinder catches worrying windows
With my innocent lens I fear drawn conclusions
Terror of the self-righteous needing appeasing
Met an old neighbour I’d not seen in a while
I frightened a horse - it frightened me right back
For a terrorised instant beating blood was freezing
Bright yellow, fading ochre, rusting brown,
The snapper looking for autumn colour
Click-click-clicking in the woods
The path paved with leaves, mud and water
Families with children and bikes leave their ruts
Look at me alone as if I’m committing treason
Dogs freed from leads can dump as they please
Out of eyeshot no wild-eyed witness picks it up
Squatting blatantly as their waste is squeezing
Burnt umber, filthy mocha, stinking brown,
The snapper looking for autumn colour
Shit-slick-slipping in the woods
Martin A W Holmes, October 2016
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