A nuthatch
Ringing out
His little silver changes
From a hidden perch
In airy little stand
Of silver birch
Swallows and Martins
Flock by the bridge
Wild and hunting
For airborne treasure
For moth and midge
This air feels different
The sky is darkening,
There's a chill to the day
And azure summer
turns to grey
There's a hurry
and a boistrous rush
Everything feels uncertain
A beautiful feather
Falling from grace
Turns in gentle spirals
And settles at the crossroads.

@matty7w
💙 Your poetry is always a feast for the soul 💙

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@allin what a lovely thing to say

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