Surrounded by song
Sung invisibly
From midsummer trees
Plump with vibrant leaves
Already rust flecked
As the year turns again
Morning birds seem rare
Landing scruffily
Some overnight rave
Kept them sleeping
Working not preening
Life keeping them busy
Two pair’s a good hand
In life’s poker game
But not so strong when
Four magpies in treetops
Flying so far so fast
To my distant wanders
Grey mornings roll along
So surprisingly
Bright shining moments
Of unexpected sunshine
As mist clenches its fist
And the year turns again
MAWH, 190620
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