halftwo
Wird Batcher
From a mile the roar of pounding waves
Blows in on the northerly, a rainbow arcs
Above the dunes.
The guttural grunts of Brent Geese
A basso profundo below the
Yapping yelps of Greylags.
A skein of three hundred Pink Feet
Straggles above the southern horizon
Struggling like fury into the gale.
Now the blast brings the squall
And rain hurls itself, the sky closes.
A Red Kite caught between sun and rain
Lands amongst the geese.
Skimming the hedge a party of Linnets
Seeks shelter in the lee.
And as suddenly the sun comes out
And into the new blue a Skylarks lifts
To sing as if in Spring returned.
Blows in on the northerly, a rainbow arcs
Above the dunes.
The guttural grunts of Brent Geese
A basso profundo below the
Yapping yelps of Greylags.
A skein of three hundred Pink Feet
Straggles above the southern horizon
Struggling like fury into the gale.
Now the blast brings the squall
And rain hurls itself, the sky closes.
A Red Kite caught between sun and rain
Lands amongst the geese.
Skimming the hedge a party of Linnets
Seeks shelter in the lee.
And as suddenly the sun comes out
And into the new blue a Skylarks lifts
To sing as if in Spring returned.