The dark forests close their ranks.
And the swift river floods its banks,
Swelled by rains
Which dash down the drains
Running along the winding lanes.
Of the mountain pass,
Mist laden
Wet grass
Strewn with horse and cattle
The pattering of rain on leaf
That signals summers last
As bees forage among flowers,
Gorse and petal .
Sun slants golden
In the quiet evening hours
And plane trees in the plaza
Shelter strolling couples
Amidst fleeting showers.
Whilst waves from the ocean
Chop into the bay
And the mountains kneel in awe
As the sun fades away.
September is here
The tide turns again
And I welcome with joy
The face of my friend.
Joseph Morriss
Playa de la reunión
6th September 2024
