In The Low House Poem by Sally Evans

In the long autumn
thin leaf holds to twig, ‭
‬flower to stem, ‭
‬gold-red berry to cluster.‭

‬In the long autumn
cloud clings to mountain, ‭
‬white swan to river flood, ‭
‬salt spray to the cliff.‭

‬In the low house
they have cut back the roses, ‭
‬they have piled up logs
and stored apples and wine.‭

‬In the low house
amid crystal and velvet
the old film begins
and they settle to watch it.‭

‬The geese fly by
and the sky is crimson
as the last roses crumple
unseen through the window.

‬The geese fly by
and the sky is silver
as over the roof steals
the first fall of snow.‭