Poulenc clarinet flutes in the kitchen,
Hammer blows beat from the cow stalls in the barn,
Woodstove murmurs low in the study,
While rain falls silent on the field outside,
And kestrel perches on the rail of the porch,
Forgetful perhaps of the stone den behind,
The ungainly, unpredictable predators within.
Oh I love this. The images are potent. Beautiful work my friend.
Thank you. The kestrel surprised us (and him/herself too) by perching right on the porch while we were eating in the veranda.
I’m enjoying your observations of your new world, Jane.
I’m getting thrilled about really very banal things, like recognizing different kinds of poop 🙂