THREE MORNING SONGS

Green trees 
black industry
morning mist
 
dank odours 
clank of locomotive
painted metal surfaces
gloom
 
in dawns sweet
sour dance
flung seagulls 
weeds in a heap
lawns bristling with daisies
 
weeping willows 
grey against the floating dead brown leaves
deep sleep 
breathes clouds

two socks on a chair
a comb on the floor
some red hair
in its teeth

twang of cycle spokes
wheels of day
sounds travelling 
far into space

** ** ** 
Fist of petals 
caged dawn
flutters soft 
the horizon
 
black lines
orange wash
stockinged feet
slippered mud 

fish scales 
cobble stones
screech of gulls
hammered boats

stench of seaweed
slap of wave
shining shells
summer holiday. 

Village crows cackle
down the street
milk bottles rattle 
glassy windows 
silently glow

fish rings 
mirror faces 
pots and pans 
dresses
aprons
 
washing up water
floating leaves
gurgle of drains
rattled buckets
cocks crowing
children playing

the cat smiles to itself  

the old man
knocks out his pipe
the pigeon coos.