FEEL THE MORNING
I wake at dawn to the sound of lapping water,
the pungent scent of river mud,
stick my head out of the tent flap
to watch the peaceful Thames.
A hatch of midges dances erratically,
catches the first rays of the sun.
Eyelevel grasses glisten with dew
as silvered cobwebs join green blades in lethal network.
Lazily I roll over, yawn and stretch.
A cacophony of birdsong separates into distinct sounds:
trills, squeaks, coos of wood pigeons, chattering chaffinches,
melodies in harmony and à capella airs.
The siren song of the river beats at my will
until I squirm out of my sleeping bag and pull on yesterday’s clothes.
Bare feet cringe in cold, wet grass,
mud squidges between my toes.
I push the dinghy with a rasping rattle until it floats,
clamber in as the current takes hold,
past pollarded willows.
Stubby trunks support an effusion of shaving brush fronds.
A pair of swans glides past – four cygnets in line astern.
I spy a gaggle of fluffy baby moorhens under the bank,
the triangles of their parents’ upturned tails nearby.
A silent shadow swoops above, neck tucked in,
as the heron searches intently for breakfast
in murky green water.
I am content.
from A Prompt Each Dag
This morning the sun said yes to the fog
and the river said thank you
for the chance to sparkle and glisten.
From the valley a blue updraft
of dust and seeds and wings
carries music and optimism.
Birds on a wire add sweet voices
to the refrain.
A grey bird turns yellow
in the sun, as a small miracle
of light bathes the field in gold.
Fold me up and leave me
to gather dust in that clover patch
of euphoria outside infinity.
Today is just such a day, and I couldn’t choose between these two poems for the last day of #30dayswild, so I give you both.