Margaret Pearce

 

Annual

Spinning into spring
the wheel of the year,
slows axle deep in
wattle and song.

Impaling the path
of migratory birds
on expanding rays
of golden sun.

Grinding deep laden
into high summer.
Swamped by the waste
of spendthrift wealth.

Scattering the gold
with gathering speed.
Autumn abandoned
in rainbow hues.

Losing impetus
in the depths of winter,
Thickets of time
shrouded in grey.

Until turned full circle
with frightening pace,
The year hurls across
the lonely sky.

 

A version of this poem read A.B.C. Radio 2 23.12.73, one use only
A version of this poem published Possum Paw Press October, 1987, one use only
A version of this poem published Positive Words January 2003, one use only