Marg Roberts has been reading and writing poetry for about 15 fifteen years. She lives in Leamington Spa and loves cycling, gardening and family.
Those moments when you open
to this morning’s blue and its retreating clouds
this symphony of sparrows endless
fluttering of feathers of feeding.
Those moments when under your shade
a baby is soothed in her mother’s arms
school kids scoot skateboard trudge
office workers balance coffee-to-go
croissants under heavy or light shoulders
hearts gay weary counting days to
weekends. And above pigeons like angels
almost suspended skilled at drifting
at dozing in your branches after gorging
on blossom. And Paul asleep in his tent
under the ticket machine water bottle parked
on top of his unfinished thriller smell
of his last smoke. All this being breath
non-breath this earthiness this sky
and you a part of it.
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