In just two weeks, the greening wood has spread  

And deepened, the orchids a darker hue,  

The chestnut holds its spears aloft,

the butterburr is over and bees visit the comfrey.   

 

In just two weeks, the screaming swifts

claim the skies, blackcaps chatter

in the leaves and the cuckoo returns

slack winged to the windy walls.   

 

In just two weeks, the red faced brood of coots,  

motoring across the green pond, piping for roots,

sheltering underwing from the storm,  

now police the river in white-fronted deliberation.

 

In just two weeks, the sulphur grey wagtail

brings no more flies to the insistent moss,

But shows his shorter tailed charges how

to hawk by the falling water.     

 

In just two weeks, the newborn lambs

Shivering on their fragile heights,  

Run in their grassy gangs, bleat with glee 

And butt their last-drop ewes.

 

And in just two weeks,  my dear mother who

Long nursed her loneliness in querulous complaint,

Left her anxious quests and floated free, her mind    

Abandoned in a bed boat of intensive care.

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