a cold draft playing

curling dust in oosy drifts

time for a spring clean

rows of hills and trees

rise layer upon layer

morning mists drifting

morning light cutting

across the darkness of night

this liminal space

at times there are no

words to capture the beauty

of the rising sun

a morning sky so

beautiful, so radiant

dazed by its splendour

when birds are singing

to welcome the day who could

not be filled with hope

specious-looking sun

promising an early spring

the faintest pink blush

those majestic elms

branches like many fine cuts

on a palid sky

still I must get up

shower, dress and clean my teeth

when working from home