Flap, flap- glide…
Flap, flap- glide…
Flashing brown against a setting sun
A Sparrowhawk circles on to Jesus.
Ochre shines the spire,
Red glows the tile,
Disrespectful gargoyles spit at a too blue sky.
Yellow leaves cling on to weakening branches,
Strange fruit fall in the breeze one-two-three.
Collected-up in children’s toys,
To be gathered and counted.
Hats and scarves,
Playing amidst leaves and leaves
To be kicked, not swept!
Squeals and laughter-
Down slide and round court
…Time to come in now,
…Time to come in now.
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