Blackbird

East Kent, 24 July 2018

Blackbird carolling

on chimney pot.

Summer set to pass.

Daylight draining

like this yellow-green wine

in my glass.

This is Nature’s bidding

I well know that.

He sings for a mate.

Or is this trilling

some mark of joy

at our shared fate?

The season that is ending

with memory coils back.

Scruffy seaside rentals.

No more lounging

on the old cane chair

skyborne recitals.