8:06pm in Victoria Park

Leaves in fronds of ten or twelve
eaten from the inside out
spinners turning orange from the time of year
and branches thick with moss and damp
It’s been raining on the rock
with the metal plaque and the lichen clusters
and a small pond shivering
with the weight of the autumn air
Freighters sound different to passenger trains
past the line of trees and the foundry wood
fifty maybe more cars in a row
and one locomotive breathing out black smoke in gasps
The spokes of bikes and scratch of dog dew claws
hitting the asphalt