Iain Britton

Ghettos of Autumn

The priest

tells of the power of leaves

how they storm the ghettos of autumn


like armies

parachuting further.

The person he is
has no distinguishing features
no identifiable tag.

He lives by the sea

covets                   the hunter

who shoots from the hip

skins thoughts to the bone
scatters them loosely.

Autumn collects suntraps
                 for the burning.