Searching for Autumn

Autumn blown redwings are banked high above Grimsetter airstrip waiting permission to land.  Curlew shaped shadows stalk the moor.  The mergansers have drifted away leaving no forwarding address.  The spider dreams of returning daffodils; it is barely winter.  Opening a bottle of autumn elixir I tilt the neck and out trickle cobwebs, leaves, chilly mists; a pleasingly sweet chestnut blocks the neck.  On days like this the plantings are carpeted with earth scented leaves.  On days like this wind blown poems become entangled in the rowans.  The hedgehog lines its bed with thoughts of spring.  The night turns off the light, the day tucks itself into bed.