Autumn Fiction Poem by Richard G Berg

Between voices between plots
Between broken benches
Between flowers and death
Where the graveyard rots

Between the minutes
Between the seasons
Between two people
And the moments where silence
Finds its reasons

Between morning and afternoon
Between finger and thumb
Between a first and third person
Narrative's full-moon
Between a pen or a phone
Replacing the gun

Between fallen berries
Goose-bumping stones
And weed-entangled teens
Laughing off moans

Between starting your stories
Where words make their news
Between a tramp in the undergrowth
Rewriting a snooze

Between men threading thin paths
In a slowness of two
Between the bags that they carry
And ambitions light as dew

Between school children's screams
For lunch-break to last
And excitement's feast
Finishing fast

Between gaps between woman
And that of a man
Between tightly parked cars
Running out of a plan

Between the corpse that lies
On a mortuary slab
And make-up applied
With a tearful dab

Between all the things
That are created with hope
Between a summer's breeze
That winks things can cope

Between the start that ends
An outing's short trip
Between where tired eyes meet
And fiction licking its lip

Richard G Berg
November 2023