TUESDAY 16
At the till she names
all the stones in my ring, asks
when my birthday is.
WEDNESDAY 17
On a path into
trees, a few yards from the road,
a man turns his back.
THURSDAY 18
Two crows scavenging
on the tarmac hold their ground
before cars encroach.
FRIDAY 19
Good Friday moon, clock-
in-the-hall faced, shines on birds
in the forks of trees.
[After R L Stevenson]
SATURDAY 20
A pied wagtail on
the pavement keeps in step with
me, flies up, comes back.
SUNDAY 21
Gulls and Canada
geese on the Minster pool, bells
over the water.
MONDAY 22
Horse chestnuts about
to blossom, first butterflies
out, fields of yellow.
Seventeen 