On finding the remains of a starling in the garden

 

Cold on paving slab
A corpse of feathers & bones
Falcon’s dinner plate

 

I will draw you, now
Since you were drawn out by death
A sketch with no song

January Birds

In the Orchard under the Tor

Gliding keen branches

Mustard, like late mistletoe

Green glimpsed woodpecker

On the bird table

Starling, stuttering

Over the abundant seeds

This! And this... and this?

Summer Birds

Young Great Tit

In my hands, frail beat

Of fledged feathers, claw and beak

Fly now, far from me

The dog pauses, wait!

Just long enough for me to

Find a fledgling perch

Hunting Buzzard

Sky-writing above

Longhand. Slow, deliberate

Soliloquy quills

House-martins and Swallows

Weaving through hedgerows

With the evening summer light

Strings of bird bunting

Young Starlings at St. Margaret's Chapel 

From the bell tower

They leap. Hearts and wings clamour

Not falling...gliding!

Wagtails and Starlings

Two Territorial Wagtails

Steam from frosty fence

Rises, as tempers flare hot

Wagtails flip the bird

Starlings at Dusk

Starlings spread a quilt

Of sunset gold, pink and blue
Murmuring the moon