halftwo
Wird Batcher
Dawn takes the overnight rain and lifts the sky.
A thousand Pink Feet in v lines:
Charcoal on the new page.
Their yapping yelps fill the cold morning,
Still and wet and pale and waking.
From the mist the first Barn Owl,
In silence, hunts the long grass,
Flickering fanned wings, fawn on white.
Buff-barred tail and hanging feet
Clenched beneath its white.
Brown Hare and Muntjac Deer watch as
Another joins the hunt, then three,
Then four - a field full of phantoms fill
To full the eye, the soul.
A Mistle Thrush begins an autumn song
As a Woodcock, flushed by ghostly hunters
Flaps a leap over the hedge and heads away,
As if searching for the ended night.
Now in fields beyond a Red Kite drifts
Towards the just risen sun: half-hidden
Egg yolk in a basket of poplars.
And twenty Long-tailed Tits perch
Above the hedge on wires:
Notes on a stave as the day sings on.
A thousand Pink Feet in v lines:
Charcoal on the new page.
Their yapping yelps fill the cold morning,
Still and wet and pale and waking.
From the mist the first Barn Owl,
In silence, hunts the long grass,
Flickering fanned wings, fawn on white.
Buff-barred tail and hanging feet
Clenched beneath its white.
Brown Hare and Muntjac Deer watch as
Another joins the hunt, then three,
Then four - a field full of phantoms fill
To full the eye, the soul.
A Mistle Thrush begins an autumn song
As a Woodcock, flushed by ghostly hunters
Flaps a leap over the hedge and heads away,
As if searching for the ended night.
Now in fields beyond a Red Kite drifts
Towards the just risen sun: half-hidden
Egg yolk in a basket of poplars.
And twenty Long-tailed Tits perch
Above the hedge on wires:
Notes on a stave as the day sings on.
