a fragment of spring

… he sits feeling the warmth of the spring breeze. A chaos of midgies hover near the edge; some are caught in a cobweb as mallards float along, birds hidden in the trees make themselves known and little buds begin their openings.

All these goings on are disturbed by the noise of a chugging barge churning the silt. A magpie swoops to the other bank to peck at something in the grass and there a moorhen comes out from the dark overhang. The magpie does a little dance and is gone as a another barge comes along in the wake of those returning mallards.

It’s quiet now but for nature’s song. The magpie returns with its mate pecking and tugging with hungry abandon, and there they’re off to the trees.

He sits trying with all his will to feel to engage with all this beauty but of course he fails. He’s not a part of this, he’s merely an observer and this saddens him …


Two’s Company, One’s a Cloud

Timeless heron in silent flight
canal watching
Is it hungry
or lonely?

White horse stoical beneath a pink blanket
ambiguous expression considers
a paddock of squelch and slop.
Does it not like pink
is it the rain
or the loneliness?

Five trees crenellate the track
fourth one dead, stark
grey against a monochrome sky.
Was it born before colour photography
did it look up at the sky and wish for blue
did it smile when the snowdrops fed upon its rot
or did it look at the lush four and feel lonesome?

Solitary magpie
flies along the plume of a
(Green steam from an unseen train)
windswept copse as it
caterpillars the horizon
lands on a bough of steam
and steals the mirage.

What of the magpie?
One for sorrow
or back to its glamour
and two for joy?