All the little flowers. St Johns Park, New Town. April 2011. Just one week in this job left to go. Then I get one week’s break and I get to start a whole new adventure again. Whoopee… Autumn , by T. E. Hulme A touch of cold in the Autumn night— I walked abroad, And saw the ruddy moon lean over a hedge Like a red-faced farmer. I did not stop to speak, but nodded, And round about were the wistful stars With white faces like town children.