From my window
I see swirls of green
Mottled branches reaching up
A black crow swerving
To take its perch

The down and up of
Chlorophyll hills
Horses in coats
Standing like guards, steadily

Parallel pathways of jeeps rubber tyres
A duck and a drake floating in silence

Solar panels look up to the stars
And sheep huddle, waiting
For something to pass

Tall firm pillars
Driven in mulchy brown filth
Support travellers
Across the mixed Cornish, Devonish waters

The train trundles on
Towards the East
And I wander towards
The place I call
Home