Michaelmas Tuesday
"Next Michaelmas Tuesday,"
he said, "then you'll
see."
Not quite sure of when it was
but liking the sound
of a day of endless promise.
I'll write you,
I'll have it done,
always by
next Michaelmas Tuesday
A day of passing vagaries.
Falling softly through the years
between the
turning seasons.
Soft smoke and flaming skies
promising a harvest of a
myriad deeds
of quiet nights and gentle words
a time for labours
rest
and stories spun.
Ne'er fret, it'll all be right
come next
Michaelmas Tuesday.