8 July

pausing for a moment the ruffled feathers of a blackbird, with a worm

somewhere between peach and apricot the colour of the underside of all these swallows

watching the shape of the swallow’s tail a sudden flock of starlings

just a youngster in the tractor mowing the field and four swallows round and around

almost lost in the shade-light of the river under trees, the sudden movement of a wren

the blueness of the sky in the breeze above the field this blackbird song

 

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