The wind is wild enough
For the gulls to be sailing
There's joy in the air
Crows catch the edge of it
With long dark fingers.
A gliding Curlew
A babbling bubble
Calling across the meadow and
Racing with the breeze
Rain is falling
Somewhere between mist
And drizzle
Fine droplets
fly like pin tacks
Into my face
On my scouring descent.
#poetry