Mind's Photograph

It will not always be like this,
The air windless, a few last
Leaves adding their decoration
To the trees' shoulders, braiding the cuffs
Of the boughs with gold; a bird preening

In the lawn's mirror. Having looked up
From the day's chores, pause a minute,
Let the mind take it's photograph
Of the bright scene, something to wear
Against the heart in the long cold.


'A Day in Autumn' by RS Thomas

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