Long shadows br this bright November morning. br br Sun br picking out gold pieces br hanging br among leaves it ‘s burned br to earth colours: br burnt sienna, ochre, br sombre terra verte. br br The feathered silver birches br and fanned corals of the oaks br defined in raw umber br by a draughtsman's pen. br br A line of poplars. br Spare skeletons br wearing the tatters of summer's green br on gaunt graceful arms br raised to the duck-egg sky. br br A cloud. br Slow-drifting, br turns back its dragon head, br responding to the spiral winds br that play in the high blue spaces br where it formed, br reforms, br changes and transmutes br as, earthbound, br I drive down the motorway.