Haiku

Arching droop of blue Heavy with my Englishness On St George’s Day.

Planes’ lights low and slow Skimming pink crescent moon Cold suburban night.

Mama Duck panics Tiny ducklings to protect Hawks hover, hungry.

Hello there! It’s Spring! Be startled by my yellow! Loud. Proud. I am Gorse.

Still drinking sweet sap Survivors among the fallen Copper leaves flutter.

Glowing sun melts frost Glossy bullocks stroll for shade Gleaming river flows.

New shoots share a twig With dried berries wondering Why the birds left them.

Tiny furry buds Yell welcome! All is now new! Start hoping again.

Each handsbreadth of moss A garden in miniature Look closely. Feel it.