I have witnessed the secret flights of dawn -
seen how a crow might fly out of hope
still under stars - and the rising awn
in wheat. I have arrived at slopes
where rivers begin and seas make a start.
I have watched a new railway begin
and seen the deadest oaks grow their parts
early June - long light summer their engine.
much else is ending. closures - sales - declines
of art and knowledge onto valley floors
where time is waiting unburied - and finds
us advent already - not just cause
of new harm. we come like the clouds and pass
like sun and rain - our vapour that sparse.
6 June 2021