The wind and sun and rain contend, but I
can shuttle in and out to catch the best:
wet dazzle-gleam of patio (and wipe
galvanised chair seat with a tea-towel).
Now clouds occlude but then the gusty wind
has something to deride; from the hedges
and from the winter sticks of sycamore,
vituperates buzz saw, cement mixer.
Little flocks of birds so tight packeted
enter stage left. Wow. Exit stage right,
pursued by the thought of a peregrine.
Now sun returns - five minute blue expanse -
adding lumens to the daffodil line
and unkempt grass-blades, mirrors of privet
leaves nodding, flashing in digital code;
midge swarm swirls crazily round the March-pole
of leaning, algae-green, bird-feeder post,
gather, cyclone, break, regather, spiral,
passionate mini storm in mini-selves,
the core of a brief life all in this dance
between the sunny showers of shining rain,
bright passages of swift clouds over sun
and vicious tarantellas of the wind.
