you say autumn, i say fall

The Early Severn


An autumn morning
at the river.
The dogs are pushed
in to bathe, to duck
for undermice,

ease love's
evil craft,

and oh they can,
bedded on the 'L',
turning for comfort
and biting
at their inside knees.

Excitment warms
the river's cold
as hatted masters
point through
the water,
the early Severn,
not yet for barges
and rowing schools,
concrete bleechers
here for history.

The oaks lean
as the wives,
forward to the current
like butted plates
in despite of their
really good hearts

in which they dream
of the invention
of aviation and airports
and where the one loved
is the one to fly

-Olly Todd