At winter midday

Winter midday across the

still soaked wetlands filled with

shades of browns and greens,

while the sun sits at 10 o’clock,

warm with just the slightest

breeze shivering the grasses

and the trees as a reminder of

the chilly season on hold

for just one day as a hint

of spring’s annual promise.


Birds in the distance flying

high over the sun dripping

scene, others fluttering across branches

or perched on scattered seats along

the wandering walkway to everywhere

and nowhere, and in the distance

the hazy bay is set against

the blue of sky and scattered

lazy clouds give nothing

but the slightest fluffy drift away.


Such is this day of calm

relief against the backdrop

of human noise and woe

that awaits on return to

the other world not of

nature’s wondrous repose.


And on the way home, in the brackish

water ways that thread through the

muddy flats, two sets of tranquil swans

have returned, their blackened necks

peaking beneath the water for food,

as they wait, fertile, for spring to rise.