An Autumn EveningA Story by Brian CsatiPublished by the Poetry Institute of CanadaIn the seemingly forgivable patterns on the mounted hill were the last of autumn's late-blooming flowers. Here and there dandelions mixed and mingled in scatters of patches from the hill and into the field beyond. What once had been a vibrant green, the shrubbery bared the last of its leaves, springing jollily from small but visible crooked branches. Dusk eased its selfish glory into nature's valley; the sun gleaming ancient gold from behind the mountains. In the background, the contented chirrups of songbirds grew soft. He stood with squinting eyes looking out at the sunset, eagerly puffing at his tobacco pipe. Small thickets of smoke floated up and disappeared. The tobacco had a sharp flavour like spice, followed by a modest after-taste. In the distance a flock of geese slowly swarm across his field of vision making night-calls as they headed for home. The evening air grew still and warm. "This is beautiful British Columbia," the squinting man said, blowing out the last of his smoke. "This is home." © 2015 Brian CsatiReviews
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1 Review Added on September 15, 2015 Last Updated on September 15, 2015 AuthorBrian CsatiPort Coquitlam, CanadaAboutLives in British Columbia, Canada and has work published by the Poetry Institute of Canada. more..Writing
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