Today I'd thought I’d write a poem for you –
but the sunrise seamed the sky in lilac
and birdwings, and so I could not get back -
prise myself away, think the structure through.
The road was busy, the day starts early here,
city noises are not quite as mystic -
(the birdsongs drowned by the whoosh of traffic)
as the daybreak shows the skies engineer.
A pair of doves sat on my window sill
wings growing sharper with the changing light
and I forgot the poem I’d thought I’d write;
they sat a long time, I watched longer still.
Wings in the sky and on the sill - sonnets
are some of the easiest things to forget.