A Slow Autumn Afternoon
Sullenly, the primrose-pale, last patch of sun
Sets slowly in a moody, milky sky;
Above it, dissipated aircraft trails,
Their destinations long since arrived at, drift
Semi-disdainfully across some crude
Rough lumps of clumpy, humpy cumulus.
And, in the sulky atmosphere, hang,
Heavy in the wind-less afternoon,
The autumn trees, slumped apathetically,
Too enervated yet to shed their leaves
Still reluctant, as if they are forced to wait
For the chiding, biting breeze to shake them, like me,
Out of our indolent complacency.