“Autumn Tangle” (1920) by William Henry Holmes
More Than Merely Players
by Howard Osborne
Tall thin tree trunks I thought were as prison bars
Or even pillars, holding up the clearest blue skies
Were ever this forest, displaying Nature’s strength
Now dressed up in a flurry of red and gold leaves
And I have realised that the season has moved on
Gently shaken into action, after summery warmth
When all was green, yet with processes so discreet
Now I am in the new reality of an autumnal ballet
As the breeze allows all the falling leaves to dance
Yet it is as if they have the one last act to perform
And then it is their final bow, on a carpeted floor
Before it all becomes a silhouette in monochrome
With dim Winter lurking backstage with noises off
Yet respectful, acknowledging all their lithe beauty
And yet in this shade
I see there is a pathway
That leads to the light
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