Skittering leaves are in the throes
Of a last mad fling before they die
Against a backcloth of grisaille...
The house, meanwhile, still looks forlorn
With the blue tarpaulin ripped and worn
While propped-up garage doors in grey
Keep nosy passers-by at bay!
Black netting hides the new facade
Though a window looks across the yard
November now is nearly done
But the finish date has overrun ...
Planks and sacks lie strewn outside
But who knows where the workmen hide?
Of their Polish truck no sign
So peace and quiet are once more mine ...
The drains are dug, the road relaid
Yet once again all is delayed
Perhaps this building site is hexed?
I wonder what will happen next ...
(c) Poet in the woods 2019
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