A Day in Autumn

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It will not always be like this

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The air windless, a few last
Leaves adding their decoration
To the trees’ shoulders, braiding the cuffs
Of the boughs with gold; a bird preening

In the lawn’s mirror.

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Having looked up
From the day’s chores, pause a minute,
Let the mind take its photograph
Of the bright scene,

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something to wear
Against the heart in the long cold.

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Words: R.S Thomas “A Day in Autumn”
Photographs: Tom