AUTUMN FALL

on the cusp
august merges imperceptibly into september
the chill is already returning
three days of camping has stiffened the bones
the dawn becomes a little darker
the dusk ever more premature

hot on the heels of the peregrine
a family of red kites preside over towersey folk festival
above the tents and marquees
over the muddy thoroughfares
high on the thermals they soar
low they swoop in search of their next meal
their mighty wings holding them aloft
poised in delicate equilibrium

the festival music swoops and soars also
melodeons, accordians and fiddles perform tricky manoeuvres
steep climbs and precipitous descents
loop the loops and smooth landings
the musicianship sparks and ignites
burning bright through the late summer night sky