Tourists gone, summer a lingering whisper
a gilded shimmer, gold on blue.
Now the geese fly south
through feathery clouds, dark shapes on the water,
like dreams, they vanish
in the morning breeze, colder than it was yesterday.
I’ll take the boat out today. There will be rainbows in the spindrift,
and laughter in the gulls’ cries,
and I’ll laugh, too, remembering,
the sun-glow on your hair, the warmth in your kisses.
The second day of Paul Brookes’ Ekphrastic Challenge. Visit his Wombwell Rainbow site to see all of the fabulous art and poets.