28 October – Golden sands

Down at the beech beach,
the leaf-sand glows
beyond the reach of the path,
where nobody goes.
I long to vault the wall
and explore this secret stretch,
to curl my toes round golden crunch,
along the river’s edge.
But where no feet have ventured,
the shining remains like virgin snow,
a glimmering colour cover,
gilding the humble browns below.
So I’ll stand considering perfection
for as long as it can last,
committing the beech beach to memory,
where its landscape lives on in the past.

28 October - Golden sands