sunday morning

from the recycling centre

an anger of smashed glass

early morning—

the dawn chorus

sings in my head 

afternoon concert...

lost in muffle

the presenter’s intro

via frosted glass...

the spider seems to exist

as a blurred world

in the distance...

the setting sun turns

a high-rise gold

silent wings—

two crows alight in sync

on separate aerials

during a heat wave

for a instant the lake

is pea-green soup

circular ripples...

a coot’s bald head

nods to the surface

slow motion—

green algae rolls over

a duck’s white chest

after a sad film

a yellow crescent moon

in a black sky