I sit and watch as
the great wheel of the year turns
and the virus ploughs
a furrow through our lives and
the Reaper rests before the
Autumn and Winter harvest.

blue is the colour
and I must never name her.
She is an image,
imagined, a cloud, his wife,
and I am jealous green

to get up / show up
fight again - the same same day -
the grind - the spiral -
one more day without her and
one more day of empty grief

nature poetry,
lush with life and death, Autumn
and Spring - reflections

under a white duvet
of sky, an early autumn
landscape waits breathing,
leaves still green, soon will turn and
fall - new leaves will come - after

there is a tune which
whispers to me from a dream
and fades with the light

stars I cannot see
hidden by the daylight - dance
all I see is blue