One day I might write something dark, but today is not that day.
Not whilst Royden is so inviting, resplendent, peaceful.
Not as I witnessed the yellow of the gorse and the rape so vibrant.
I thought of a song at that moment.
Every shade of green visible, against a blue sky, peppered with cotton wool clouds. Liverpool’s dockland cranes appear majestic but distant.
A pleasant full stop on the north horizon.
Look left; still wind turbines decorate the skyline.
But why are they still?
A wren singing tunefully with a strength that belies its tiny form.
A kestrel hovers leading the eye through the fields, across the estuary, to the famous, eminent hills. The warm sun making the vista so easy on the eye.
Dogs pass every few yards busy, searching, sniffing happy.
Busy and Happy.
Today I feel content, warm with the sun on my back, privileged, lucky to be here
I will write something dark One Day.
But today is not that day
Poem by Barry Quatermass © 2019