My father, John Brooks, is a wonderful poet and I find his poems very relaxing and peaceful. I thought this one, about Autumn, might bring a moment of calm to anyone who is feeling a bit frazzled this morning!
The soft light of early evening
lit the tree whose leaves were
yellow and orange, red and brown;
a kaleidoscope of colour.
A returning crow rattled a branch
which shed a leaf that struck
another as it fell
both dropping with a lazy spin.
And then with the downing sun,
a gentle gust of quiet wind
brought down a shower of leaves,
scooping and hooping them away.
Light faded and a chilly breeze
blew whisps of cloud across
the moon, and in her wake
the line of coming night.
J. B. Oct 06.