sweeping the back yard

of empty snail shells, polished

gifts from the blackbird

a fractured summer

human cacophany starts

one hour earlier

a pause in birdsong

do birds nap during the day

when our clocks advance?

a much disturbed night

my bed comfortable now

it is time to rise

through a mist the sun

burns an outline of the day

for us to complete

glorious colours

rising sun, yellow on blue

defiant birdsong

what use are tears now

watching from the wings how tight

the screws, but still. Shame.

a man hugs his cat

his life crushed in the rubble

our useless tears fall

scrolling through channels

outside people drive to work

following routine

over the Earth’s rim

sun reveals the damage wrought

a newborn screaming