Nasturtiums in November

Against the

time-bleached brown of

creosote fences only

the naked thorns of leafless roses,

the spoiled yellow of rained-out

chrysanthemums.

Air so moisture-laden, voice

gropes for ear like a deep diver

in labyrinthine waterways

   How silently now a

   Perched Dunnock chisels

   through the nut meshes

Between brick and moss-grass sprawl

the undulating forms of

heaped nasturtiums. Lavish

celebratory body: wave motion of

Chinese-dragon carpet.

Caught in the massed upthrust of

green parasols, now ochre-edged, wild

water-coloured splashings,

wine stained ruby mouths,

golden snake-buds still aspiring -

bright-tipped in

November

Anon