Old Foul Autumn Leaves

One of our booksellers, Alan Wilson, at Blackwell’s Bookshop in the Students’ Union at Queen’s

University Belfast, mentioned during a recent visit, his interest in poetry and an award for a poem he’d written.

It’s in connection with homelessness, an area of concern I was involved with for a number of years at a men’s hostel in Belfast, and one that affects a wide range of people from all walks of life, for all sorts of reasons.

Alan won 1st prize for a competition set by the Simon Community for his poem Old Foul Autumn Leaves, which is reproduced below:
Old Foul Autumn Leaves
Oh, how we wither on the street

like the old foul autumn leaves.

As we cry for a copper or two

they ignore us as we do.

We prey on heat from cracks on doors

or a bed of stones and concrete floors.

Spring brings no new born

summer brings no warmth.

Autumn brings decay

and winter brings death.

Oh, how we wither on the streets

like the old foul autumn leaves.
By Alan Wilson

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