5am: the birds are shouting, barking
so I might as well get up

the bupp of the teabag in the sink
hot tea in my tummy

blackbirds on rooftops
and treetops chirp out to one another
carve up the territory, triangular chunks
noisey noisey noisey

a black flash the length of the garden
a shrub-hugging flight path

June/July, these days are longer
more outside hours, more awake

and, same as the birds,
I don't like to stay still for long

~ ~ ~

Only a minor whirlwind
not enough to make the news
but it blew debris everywhere
like I'd left the window open
or forgotten to close it
and draw the curtains
as if I should

I had all these letters and postcards lying around
and a good number got scooped up/swept away
which is regrettable,
but these things compare and contrast
and on balance, it's OK

I'll put my finger in the air
see which way the wind blows

~ ~ ~