When autumn wind sighs over mitchell grass downs I look for you stencilled black against the coppery glow. We speak of simple things living a lifetime in small moments, daily doings, a dripping tap, the leaky pipe. Shifting the kettle to the hob, tracking a whorl of stars across the dome. I wish we could hitch a ride to heaven. But you’re drawn to city lights places around the bend beyond the hill. Waking in dawn’s grey I hear leaves crunching you’re leaving me to wait for autumn wind shushing over grassy downs.