This poem by Kerry Hardie gives a picture of time moving quietly, flowing like damp air through the open windows of an empty house:

Nothing more

of hope or exaltation in the flow

of damp air from the windows that I leave

to let the year move quietly through the house

preparing for the long dark and the cold,

loosening the nets spent thoughts still weave,

clingy as cobwebs.

 

Cobweb in Claydon churchyard

Cobweb in Claydon churchyard

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