Dawn Chorus

there are no words to the whisper
which pulses through the congregation
of troubled leaves that mutter
at disturbing breeze insinuating
its cold message in expectant dimness

now hops up the tinkle of a tiny tweet
fresh-beaked on the finger of a birch
from the shrubbery estate of coal tit nests
where breaks the night peace in the cold gloom
before bleary sun bursts the rim of the eastern sky

and swiftly one tweet becomes two
as tentative light filters long
through unsuspecting molecules of air
around the bashful edges of clouds
flamingo pink bleeding to a jasmine hue

in the next garden a mistle thrush
calls out to the pale yellow wakening
that rouses each form of feathers
from primary through to graduation
in their unfolded tumult of arias
voices pinioned to the yawning day


2 responses to “Dawn Chorus”

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