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  • Orla Beaton

My Old Friend Darkness


The clocks went back at the weekend And suddenly you are here again In my kitchen, behind the blinds A familiar heaviness arises And it dawns on me that The wheel has turned

So I invite you in You take a seat by the fire And over a warm cuppa We talk in whispers Of slowing down and decaying leaves

We ponder hedgehogs hibernating Toads slumbering Compost slowly transforming Acorns patiently waiting Dormancy, stillness, peace

I take you with me to bed And we dream of winter walks Under starry skies We gaze at the bright light of the moon With awe and wonder We dream of feasts with ancestors And laughter by candlelight

As the light returns the next day And you depart A certain fondness or wisdom That comes with age Arises And I smile

By Orla Beaton 6/11/19

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