End of September

Looking across Fog Lane park, in amongst the dull green trees 
bright red flames of autumn lick around the edge of an insignificant oak

Frown

I concentrate fiercely on writing 
and when I glance up into the mirror opposite the bed my father's frown looks back at me.

Jupiter

At 6am the air is so cold my skin prickles and my fingertips ache but there is Jupiter, shining alone in a perfect dark blue sky. 

Gnome

He steps out of the undergrowth
small and rotund with a bushy moustache and spiky hair

Fox

Scrawny and emaciated with sores on its hip bones and mangy fur, a tiny fox trots out from behind a house on Barlow Moor Road. It pauses momentarily then retreats to the garden until it thinks I have gone.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Carnage

heaps of disembowelled and desiccated bodies are strewn along the path
late arrivals feast on the remains
the trail of tiny blue poisonous pellets leads all the way to the back door

(Slugs and snails seem to be becoming a regular theme here)