Early Autumn Poem by William Barton

Robins threaten from tree top vantage;
Swallows gather belatedly;
Crows test the shifty winds.

Oak leaves stay strong and green
but beech and willow
turn to twisted yellow.

Raindrops pimple the lake.
Suddenly a heavy shower -
a thirsty stream recovers its voice.

Puddles lace the pathways;
mud collects in cobbled corners
with the reek of fallen leaves.

The skies grey into dusk
and soft darkness,
in the year's long afternoon.