rain on and off

           all week—early puddles

                 of pink blossom 
                                      (for John McDonald)

          urban whiteness...

          a mute swan lands
          on the frozen lake

                       as dawn breaks...

               the haunting sound

               of a cuckoo

almost midnight—

a sneeze every where

in the block of flats 

The above is a rewrite of a haiku

originally posted on 12 February...

in a dream—the hedge

partially blocking my view

has been trimmed and shaped

           blustery day—

                  the tube stairwell

           lined with plane leaves

These leaves are not plane but they look colourful

a blackbird

in a bare tree—against

                 a bare sky 

between bare twigs...

an undulating spider’s web

dotted with dew           

on the path—a dusting

of Mahonia blossoms...

all around its scent

through frosted glass...

a joggling leaf trapped

by a spider’s thread  

                   after its repair—buddleia 

            shoots start to sprout

                from the old wall    

                           grey sky...

          a solitary starling

          lets out a tweet

            afternoon shadows—

            on the dark glass river

            a swan glides along         

         gentle wind—caught up  

         in the river’s current

                a cluster of leaves

       heavy mist—

       suspended in the sky

       a lamp’s yellow light

                        
           in the glass tower:

           the old building

           twisted and warped

         countryside stroll—

         along the green bank

         small bursts of colour