THE FALL, THE GALL, THE THRALL... (AUTUMN, WARWICKSHIRE...)

 The Fall, The Gall, The Thrall…

You could feel the fall

Of leaves, certainly

But also of the coldness,

The sombre dampness

And autumn’s gusty call

To winter’s lusty villainy…

You could sense the gall

Of robins’ anxiety

And also of their boldness,

Their sombre frankness

And territorial, lusty call

In woodland’s fusty solemnity…

You could sense the thrall

Of the badger clearly

But also of its furtiveness,

Its sombre churlishness

And foraging, lusty call

To scour the musty vicinity…

Pete Ray

26th October 2021

One badger, a couple of robins, falling leaves and falling darkness, all within a sombre woodland…

Warwickshire on a dank Sunday evening…