It is a day both dark and bright,

Speckled sun, October rays!

Fruit ripe upon the apple tree.

Dearest I shall take a bite and

think of thee.

 

In between the houses

and down the track,

In the evening the pipistrelle

flutters in silhouette.

The evening softly

seeps into the musk the woods

confer,  I tread more softly  

around the rutting fallow deer.

 

Down by the river in the gloom

the pike hunts by his senses

sharp, the leaves respire, tan

and plunge, the spores and worms

increase the rot.

 

Into this season now appear

the cider maker and hops for

beer, darkness sooner

beckons, descends the day

Oh for a season richly this.

 

– Jules Horsfield, Coleford.