SATURDAY 4 20
A bumblebee, the
first of the year, hovers an
inch above the grass.
SUNDAY 5 20
The birch must smell of
the breeze that ruffles its leaves,
the newness of spring.
MONDAY 6 20
Bluebells flowering in
the borders, ultramarine,
on fleshy greenness.
TUESDAY 7 20
Social distancing,
two magpies promenade, two
feet of space between.
WEDNESDAY 8 20
Saw-toothed leaves, shaggy
petals of a dandelion
pushing through dead leaves.
THURSDAY 9 20
More blue, forget-me-
nots, round the edge of a lawn
that harbours daisies
FRIDAY 10 20
A bird sings outside
until a helicopter
chases it away.
Seventeen 