Autumn’s Eve by Putney Bridge

Grey light over the undulating tress of the Northbank

As the river flows to the darkening East.

August 30^th, and sullen mood

Or defiant glee grips the passers-by,

Here on the South.

The workers are returning to throng

In the crowded city

With tans fading to memories

And a chill wind blowing from

Tropic Hurricanes.

Do not go my love.

You shone so fierce

So soon ago,

Unwitting of your warmth.

You remain,

Hidden behind the sky I see,

That was yester blue.

But night will come, and then

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

Creeps like dawning hope through night

To break red or gold or hidden again

On the whim of the wind.