a whisp of cloud in the sky.
I wake up early, and (for once)
sated with sleep. I decide to
take the dogs for a run, and myself
for a half walk, half run (of the conscience easing sort).
All is still. As I reach the crossroads,
a cuckoo pipes up from the trees,
down in the bog. Other birds trill
and chirp, and a wood pigeon adds its
gentle call. There are bluebells, and
pretty white flowers I can't name.
All is good, and the day stretches
before me, all sunshine and space.
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