11: Open - Nov 2021


The air is cooling, a torrent of nostalgia and hope,
disconsolate breaths, 
echoes of sighs and whispers.
Touch the velvet decadence of sumach, 
the curled, browned beauty
of dessicated Queen Anne’s lace, the
teasels and burrs in their sculptural perfection.

Yellows appear, a million wistful browns,
but also fiery reds, fervent burgundies, 
thick and saturated as garnets 
and wine.
The skies observe impassively,
so often colourless now
in their lush showcase of greys.

Spring gets all the attention, our loud enthusiasm 
for bursting, blossoms, wetness 
and abandon.
But there’s passion in fall’s
rueful, diffuse melancholy, 
its slow and subtle 

Embrace the poignant, 
the exquisitely brief,
this palette of longing.
Drink in these colours, 
understated so
to ready our eyes 
for merciless glacial hues ahead.

-Tanya Fenkell

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