A bird’s life

it’s a different day out front, while

the patio is bathed in early spring sunshine

it’s Arctic outside the garage,

garden birds are busy

tardy blue tits scout out the birdbox

but the cautious wrens

are already half-built in the ivy, leaving

the stupid pigeons to parade around

aimlessly with twigs in their beaks,

you’re in your element

pricking out the tomatoes

that have thrived well

on the spare bedroom windowsill,

I swear it’s trying to snow again

god knows it’s cold enough,

then I hear the teapot’s clank

on the wrought iron table

and don’t wait for your call,

I leave Narnia

and as I walk through the gate

I hear you ask

‘Is a ploughman’s alright’?

and the pigeon drops his twigs.

Published by grahamrsherwood