This morning various things are taking their toll; sparkle and enthusiasm are sadly lacking. In fact, today I feel proper poorly. I wanted to do a cover release today for the Green Woman trilogy, but will wait to see if I feel like cracking open the Prosecco later.
In the meantime, this is a poem I wrote yesterday as the heat wave was getting into gear.

Magpie,
Chinese kite,
Bad augur,
Fluttering flight straining,
Despite broad-feathered wings,
A blot in the blue sky,
Coarse-voiced,
Carrion-seeker,
Nest-plunderer.
My heart contracts at the portent,
But in all the wide sky,
Are no other eyes but mine
Fixed on the piebald harbinger,
The bad luck falling upon other heads?
And if I turn away pretend not to see?
Amadou asleep beneath the bridge
Sees nothing but the searing dream-sun of home,
The junkie trembles as he finds the vein,
Sightless on the bank of flowing beauty
And the delicate overarching tracery of the poplars.
Magpie cries,
Scattering anathema
That falls like poisoned rain,
Through the leaves of the cherry trees
Leaving no one unstained.