Autumn Truths | Britta Benson

Summer lingered long, never took.

Light spilled, sat easy, asked for a truce.

Now, laughter darkens, learns to wait.

A season peels off trees in golden ochre, bloodred, rust.

Eyes roll, all colours whisper, no intention of remaining.

‘Hear me’, the caught leaf sings, pinched between two fingers.

I close my fist.

The faintest heartbeat stops.


Britta Benson is a happiness & poetry blogging, circus skills instructing & common butterfly following German, a writer, performer & linguist thriving in Scotland, her chosen habitat since the year 2000.
Britta’s Blog – Letters from Scotland
Odds & Ends

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