Carpet Fall

by Carol Wolrich

Email: carol.a.w@blueyonder.co.uk

She dreams of a living room carpet; the restless

consumer, so much choice, yet nothing lives up

to her hoped-for look of the outdoors, indoors.

She seeks inspiration in the forest, where crisp

leaves crunch under her tread, in syrupy shades

of rose hips and maples; October's abundance.

It's a feast to her hunger; like a vast platter

of fresh cod in batter, graced with golden chips.

She abandons her plans to go shopping.

 

When her husband returns from work, he finds her

sitting, resplendent, on a shag pile of leaves,

gathered from the generous woods; "well, there

were plenty spare. And we can replace it every

year." She plumps him a bracken chair. As he kicks

off his shoes, the floor scatters everywhere

in a flurry of oak and cherry. Then a grey, bushy

tail pops up in the middle. They seem to have

adopted a squirrel.