The day is done, tomorrow waits
Slow sinking winter sun, slides down the icy sky.
A stick is thrown across the dew drenched grass
Dog’s running back with warm wet smiles,
Tail franticly bobbing, ‘wont you stay a while’?
Steel cold playground bars,
Hold the children as they swing around on a clinking chain
Higher, higher, higher,
Mother holds them back again.
So joggers strive in circles around the ground one more time,
Oblivious to the subconscious reason of their motivation.
Plane like sharks circle above,
Impatient to land, weary from their frozen journey,
Leyden with the ready meals and digital pictures,
All part of the memory, the story to be told.
Down beneath, model aeroplanes duck, twist and dive
A toy dogfight with buzzing flies,
A battle of Britain where nobody dies.
The leaves still shiver on the trees against December’s darkening breeze
As the slow sinking winter sun so softly silently leaves.