I found this poem inside an acorn cup.
I wanted things one way
All beauty swaying and light trees
But a maggotty wyrme bit my heart
The dread pain clacking in my leg
Gave way, I ceased to hold on
Steven Isserlis was playing the cello
The saturated sky swam upward
Until my eyes could take no more blue
A poem is a kind of folded message.
Veronica Aldous all rights reserved 2018
Painting of diseased sessile oak leaves and old and young acorns by Veronica