Remembering Autumn

It’s easy to look on
Ice covered windscreens
And frost-laden rooves
And dream of direct hits
Heat from the summer sun

And forget Autumn
That prelude
Before gloves, hats, and
Black tights favoured
By cold-averse runners
Are standard wear

Tilted forwards, our minds
Require a jolt to plunge
Into the past to
Be reabsorbed by
Whatever was witnessed there

Morning: minus 3
To rid the car of grime
Winter filth in my sights
Steaming soapy water
And I advanced:
Harbingers of Spring

Instead, I stumbled upon
Autumn
Sycamore seeds lodged
In every crevice, sleeper
Spies in a foreign land

The past, lest we forget,
Has a potency…
…I reached in and slung
Each tawny spy
Away with the grime:
Forbidden fruit