The Orange Time

Here we are in November - all the leaves are yellow and brown and orange, as is the lowering sun. These berries (swirled round like digital custard) are kind of orange too.

NOVEMBER SONG

She had a sweet dream
that made her laugh hard
in the orange time.
She stood by the stop
and held out her hand
lit by leaf-light and sun
in the orange time.
Her boss was half-cracked
and gave her the sack
but she wasn't surprised
in the orange time.
She came home and
cried and he
kissed her like mad
in the orange time.

In the cold hour of
dawn they went to
the sea, in the
orange time. Gulls
grabbed their bread and
they felt good and kind
in the orange time.
He hugged her hard
and she wept just a
bit, in the orange
time. A year of hard
knocks topped by the sack.
In the orange time.

He raced to a tree
and he climbed it
and yelled, in the
orange time. She
followed his path and
they shared a dead
bough, in the orange
time. The sun came
out strong and they
sang a mad song,
in the orange time.

It hurt when they jumped
down to earth with a bump,
in the orange time.
They got in the car
and home wasn't that far
off in the orange
time. But a drunk in
a truck meant they'd
run out of luck
in the orange time.
Now they rest in
a grave swamped
by leaves in the haze,
in the orange time.
And the Earth travels
on but for them it's all
gone and they just don't
belong in the orange time.