Seasonal Shifts Poem by Sheena Blackhall

The hungry wind sucks pebbles on the beach
A shag glowers at the foam
It's throat's a tarry S

Christmas cards
How many less this year?
No forwarding address

One fledgling fell mid flight
Broken in smithereens

One song less in the garden
The cat has eaten the robin
The tree is empty of joy

Daffs brash and common
Are the whores of spring
Anybody's for the picking
Thousands around our house

Tiny bell by a shrine
No Quasimodo clang

Buttercup under the chin
Spreading like honey
A yellow sun of shine