While waiting in line I talk to the trees

Is there anything more serene
than seeing a baby blue sky
resting upon a tree’s new green?

I looked behind me
while waiting in line
and there were the trees
splendid as always
the old bodies
the new welcomes

I replied to their hello
and they drew my soul in
to the sound
of their colours
their many shades of green
kissing the subtle shade of blue

I ask again

Is there anything more serene
than seeing a baby blue sky
resting upon a tree’s new green?

 

Two’s Company, One’s a Cloud

Timeless heron in silent flight
canal watching
ephemeral.
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?