you carried the summer here
to move to stop stop stop
to move stop move
across this winter field

olive-speckled smudges
dull-ish sparks
a-flicker over furrows
dusted with snow

are you really there
whispers the naked hedge
are there really so many there
sings the stubble

here, here chorus the flock
blown skywards like spume
banners dancing bonny
at some alarm

cast like confetti
in an icy sky
to settle sudden, calmed
unseen now

the hawk is past
the dog is with its man
the crow-wars
are still months away