by Nicola Warwick
Light throws a kaleidoscope on my blank page. I pick out yellow and a ghost of grey – but yellow- in loose diamond shapes like the wings of a butterfly pinned open.
A buttery, not quite sulphur yellow, escorting an ensemble of sounds, bass notes of traffic, melody held by robin, wren, song-thrush, overlaid with the calls of panicked geese.
More yellow than the labrador that smiles at me the way dogs know how to do. Less yellow than the flare of the blackbird’s beak as he frisks the ivy for a nest site.
This scatter of light on a page, this memory of sounds, an ignition of spring and somewhere, behind me a woodpecker laughs.
Copyright © 2020 Nicola Warwick