Turn

It’s nearly March, almost

and the yolk of a breakfast sun

just clears the ridge of next door’s roof,

it lolls, if a sun can loll,

like a trapped balloon

occasionally sliding to the right.

Unseasonably warm said the weather girl,

squirrels are trying to outdo the magpies

in a stick-breaking contest

and blue tits come and go

worrying outside their usual box

but haven’t settled in yet.

All this tells me a story

over a sourdough toast crossword

and marmite flavoured coffee,

with the crocus stretching skyward

days are getting longer, lighter

and spring is at the door knocker.

Published by grahamrsherwood