The last walk home before darkness

It is not yet autumn
Yet the leaves mist the pathway
Your movement disturbs the birds
And they scatter in a storm of wings
To your left you hear voices
Lost in the trees,
As you navigate the footpath
Past the fishing lake and swans
Later you pass a hollowed out man
Whose cough splutters cigarettes
And the dust of cancer across the street
The kids on scooters,
Let out to play despite the warnings,
Sing obscenities out to you
A lone crow cackles from the lamppost
Dusk sends her darkness
In hushed tones to embrace you
As you turn for home
The strangers, as always, greet you
With over familiar enthusiasm
The lone cat toys with a tortured catch
The call of a goose as its formation flies by
Distracts and before you realise
You are on the pavement of your street
The glow of electric lights
The flicker of TV screens
Behind half closed curtains
And the turn of the key in the door