isobelmtl

Writing under a Montreal sky

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about

Isobel Cunningham has published short fiction and poetry. Her book, Northern Compass is available on Amazon. She was born in Wales but Montreal is her adopted home. She speaks French, Modern Greek ( it’s a fun story) and a little Spanish…oh, English too, of course. She welcomes comments on her blog and looks forward to chatting with you over cyber-space.

Gold in the Gutter

Gold in the gutter

The hour, the golden hour has come

For you to flutter, for you to fall.

Your song becomes a stutter, a cry

The others lie though they too were so proud against the sky.

Gold and high but no more can they fly the flag of beauty.

Gold in the gutter.

Once green, lush

A sign of life, renewal

The hours, cruel hours rolled

Clocks have chimed, bells have tolled.

Now became your when.

How green changed hue. Now still gold on blue,

Still hanging on the branch

This day a chance, a little gasp, one grasp of an Autumn day

So soon gold in the gutter

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