I took some photos three days ago when the sun came out but my phone still hasn’t coughed them up so I think we can assume I’m not going to get them. Here are the short poems written for the pictures.
No snow in this tepid clime
where grass stretches livid green the winter long,
basking in the diamond-scattered light,
prismed and damp, of rain drops.
Wind blows cold,
tossing gulls, grey as fog
and strident as a traffic jam,
from wave to wave
of the restless river.
Grass glitters in the winter sun,
and daisies raise white frilled heads
in a field of diamonds.
Suddenly the sky is full of gulls,
and the air rings with their laughter.
Supple as silk,
colour of winter clouds,
gulls hang on the breeze from the sea,
blinking at snowflakes,
snapping at tossed scraps.