Green Sandpipers
(River Crouch — Creeksea Essex.)
I thought they were house martins :
fluttering along the tide line -
dancing their hornpipes.
But no — they were sandpipers :
green sandpipers
between here and there -
the far north and the far south.
Migrants in my beautiful
river valley,
sharing my August morning -
my summer reverie.
Would I migrate if I could ?
Perhaps.
For now I will share my treasure :
my golden fields,
the silver — shimmering tide.
They zig-zag far up river
at a whim
and I am left
— like all who live in time -
with absences and madrigals of light.
