Saturday, 20:25, London
Whittling through winter
Darkness catches me out in the evenings
Closing doors and possibilities
Incremental change is still change
Progress, light, green
But the muddy gloom harbours on
Save the mornings for birds and writing
Kingfishers don’t sing but sparkle
Slapping silver sprats on branches while we sleep
It felt like spring for a second
Beating wings
A shot of light in the dark