Watching the sudden seagulls in the garden, I wondered what brought them here as we are miles from any seawater. We have had a lot of flooding water but they’re not interested in that. Perhaps it seems a more sympathetic environment but I used to think that if they stayed too long, the magpies would gang up on them. Now, I’m not so sure after reading a whole bunch of storiesof their extreme aggression during these pandemic times. A misty afternoon with seagulls like snowflakes and a ginger cat furious about being kept inside.
ALWAYS OUT THERE
Those seagulls in our garden Are a long way from water. Doing what we all do, I suppose, Looking for a future Just a little bit better.
March Hares Boxing in the middle of the big field. The wide white light of the moon Tearing shadows into fragments Of black and white confetti.
These magical creatures, Owned by witches and wizards, Bring magic with them.
They are the first to see darkness Detach itself from the silent hedgerows. The first to hear hunters Drop to the cold ground, To steal the hare’s likeness For their photograph albums. Greedy to capture the joyful secrets Of wild creatures made of magic, Eyes full of white moonlight, Ears that semaphore night secrets.