Lucky, by Britta Benson

Lucky Another autumn. Trees remember ends. Forget. Winter freedom strikes.

Forgetful autumn, by Britta Benson

My poem ‘Forgetful autumn’ has just been published by Whispers & Echoes. Here’s the link: https://whispersandechoesmag.home.blog/2022/11/16/forgetful-autumn-britta-benson/ Not many leaves left on the trees, here… Forgetful autumn Forgetful autumn, truths still clinging to branches. Questions fall unanswered, rest, forgetful autumn.

That one leaf, by Britta Benson

My poem, That one leaf, has been published on Whispers & Echoes today. Please click this link to view: https://whispersandechoesmag.home.blog/2022/11/09/that-one-leaf-britta-benson/ That one leaf That one leaf… Last no longer welcome guest, hanging on with the grimace of the misunderstood. That one leaf… Fading memento, half digested by opportunistic visitors. Souls cannot be contained forever. There

The nature of autumn, by Britta Benson

Here’s my response to the November Poetry Challenge over on Fake Flamenco. This month, Rebecca asks us to write a haiku about something that fascinates us in nature. You can find the Rebecca’s full blog post by clicking on this link: https://fakeflamenco.com/2022/11/08/november-2022-poetry-challenge/ Oh, and here’s the best part: If you participate in the challenge and

The grand finale, by Britta Benson

I wrote this haibun in response to Mark S’s micro-season blog on Naturalist Weekly. You can read the full post by clicking on this link: https://naturalistweekly.com/2022/11/04/micro-season-the-maple-and-ivy-turn-yellow-2022/ The grand finale Autumn, performing a beautiful return to primaries. Reds and yellows replace attention grabbing green. The surprising chemistry of self-preservation. Letting go, such an intentional process, a

Icing, by Britta Benson

October has been mild and damp. In a way, this has left me longing for crisp coldness. Here’s what I thought, this morning: Icing Breathing in October mildness. Damp falls. Clings. Bones ready to resonate with frost. Truth. Clarity of cold.

Not today, by Britta Benson

Ha! Another autumn poem about leaves… you’d think I’d be a little more imaginative… But I love autumn leave and I think, their dance should be celebrated. A magic transformation right in front of our eyes… what a show. I often wonder, how the leaves feel about this change of colour, change of all. Here’s

To an autumn leaf, by Britta Benson

In case you are wondering, why I am writing so many poems about autumn leaves just now, well, it’s pretty obvious. Plus, I have been setting the prompts for this month’s session of the Boundary Way Writing Group, and, guess what? My prompts were all autumn leaves related… If not now, then when? Here’s an

Autumn from my point of view, by Britta Benson

Autumn, from the point of view of a leaf. Why not? Here’s my shadorma. Autumn from my point of view Last to fall. Held on, sun-soaked, cold. Letting go of summer, hardest part of growing old. Watch my dance of life.

Autumn, by Britta Benson

Autumn Leaf on tour. Soft journey, carried by winds free of charge. First swirl, colour curls in the air, painting quick patterns of change. What remains must always return to earth’s core, be more. Beginnings fall. Seasons gone, yet to come, leap of faith. Leave.