Sunday, May 22, 2016

Darts


(Despite my clumsy efforts, the blue tits manage to thrive).

Now fully occupied
the tit box on the garage wall
is visited every minute,
blue and yellow darts
in and out
a bullseye every time
all launched from an oche
the old contortia
only thirty feet away.
They pause only for the camouflage
of the Russian vine to
peel back in the lazy breeze,
its leafy sun hat brim
their moderating traffic light,
opening and closing
in perfect rhythm.

Here they come again.



© graham Sherwood 05/2016

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