Sunday

House martins have built a nest later than
usual and perhaps a second this season at the
front of our house and the last day of July
dawns to the comforting softness of their
at-home just-woken clucking and feather
fussing punctuated by long silences … and

shuffling about before soaring and circling
darting and diving – early morning routine
beneath pale blue sky – too early yet for tyres on
tarmac save for a single tractor at first light so I
breathe shallow and grateful as dressed stone in the
mullion window is warming gently in the still
silence of 5am Sunday

SRM

see housemartins