Distracted,
He ironed shopping-bags
(or helium-balloon-kite-lanterns)
until they shrivelled like salted slugs
and the polyethylene rain
dripped from the heavenly boardwalks.
His autumn
would be quieter this year, even though
it was a little warmer today.
Plastic leaves were just as prolific
but without the satisfying natural crunch
so complained Mother, ever bored
with her sons’ efficient campaigns
as Gods of this perpetual autumn planet.
Sophie Littlewood is a writer and musician from Cambridge, currently studying Chemistry at the University of Oxford.
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