Tim Ashdown says he is a poet of few words, as these two nicely spare pieces attest. He originally thought of publishing under a pen name, but it is nice to see such work go against his real one.

Evening

A sunset splashed across the sky
Like wine across a tablecloth.|
And as the minutes pass
It fades into the fabric –
Now a blanket, thick and black,
Wrapped around the night.

Saturdays in Autumn

A gust of autumn blows across the day
And carries me backwards 20 years.
The clouds are grey, the leaves are crunchy
And inside our house the TV coverage starts.
I could never sit through a full game
But even back then
Saturdays in autumn were for football.

Tim Ashdown lives in Birkenhead. He can be found on Twitter, at @TimothyAshdown.

Readers’ original and unpublished poems up to 30 lines can be emailed, with postal address, to poetscorner@solsticemedia.com.au. A poetry book will be awarded to each contributor.