Winter Is Gone

Tendrils tempt window-sills
broken door     roof-tiles paused
the figures are gone
spring runs a fuse through green grass stem
an empty weather-house
peeled lonely over lost hills
sky-larks flock upwards
chattering in an overcast sky
a weather-bound bench overlooking a loch
they sit and discuss the view
the placid water    the birds    the drooping branches
words ripple where a kingfisher dives
she cradles my paintings    riffles
my poetry    reads snatches aloud     holds my hand
asks me if I've got a pension plan
he with glasses slipping downwards
peers at me   we inspect a six-foot fence
I think he's wondering why I'm such a complex son
A chaffinch hops from him to her
I brew some tea   enough for everyone
I flourish some flowers from behind my back
applause    delight
I tuck a paint-brush back behind my ear
a large blob of cerulean blue smudges the loch
gambodge and tartan lays a blanket 'round their legs
I play a lullaby                                      they fall asleep