First published in January 2021
A pale winter sun
smudges the skyline just a thumbprint
a vague impression on the dove-grey morning.
Snowdrops in their hundreds
pour discreet riches over the churchyard wall
where winter walkers capture their silver on mobiles.
For this hour, crows wheel
and cry overhead, ducks surf the brook, children
throw bread and spring leaves green fingerprints on the earth,
Covid fading to a mere mirage.