Dark Morning And Dark Thoughts

One Last Effort


   Darker the morning that welcomes us on this Saturday of October, the world of marsh and fen seems so quiet and still, no dove calls echo through conifer tree this morning and only the odd finch chatters while feeding on niger seed. How different this world in which I live has changed in just a month, gone are the sun filled mornings and fresh green hedgerows as now those colours of autumn start to litter every tree, the rusty orange signs of winters arrival with golden carpets collecting beneath the orchard branches that stand on peat meadows of the past where forgotten voices of peat cutters still whisper in the fen wind.
   The hopes of this bead maker fade with every day as his wares seem those of the past and thoughts of him sitting at his flame this christmas day just a dream, tired of fighting he now feels scared of future weeks and where they will place him, one last effort to keep his world he gives but dark it looks and maybe this bead hermit will soon make that final bead, but it will be a bead in which his fight will be encased and around his neck it will always hang, it will be my bead.