A sudden bird crazy yard.
Instinctive in reaction
I stepped out to look
And saw – nothing at first
But then a catch of joy
To echo the light in the sky.
The swallows are back –
Just the two at first, now another four.
The shoddy old barn –
Is it really five hundred years old? -
Is looped and plunged and curved.
A background of dark and shadows
To flights of fancy and fact.
Time for the swallows again.
Light summer nights.
Being late in the wood.
My dog, eager, joyful.
Stupid to make me glad
Leaping, inciting me mad
Last year was all mystery
Hidden shadows, rainbows and things.
Now I feel with my senses
All the time knowledge entering in.
Yet somehow it is still a mystery.
It's there as the swallows fly in.
Published on Openwriting.com under the name Jackie Mallinson