The proletariat of mud

Spent a wonderfully relaxing afternoon at our Allotment-plot earlier today ... it's the first weekend in months (literally) that we've had some significant time to spare!

These Autumnal-colours (this snap is of one of our many flower beds) reminded me of the Norman MacCaig poem ...


Autumn

Wanting to go,
all the leaves want to go
though they have achieved
their kingly robes.

Weary of colours,
they think of black earth,
they think of
white snow.

Stealthily, delicately
as a safebreaker
they unlock themselves
from branches.

And from their royal towers
they sift silently down
to become part of
the proletariat of mud.

---

Norman MacCaig (1910-1996)

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