My poem for Paul Brookes’ 30DaysWild challenge. You can read the poems here.

Swift-swallows

They’re quartering the river
the swallows and the swifts
hunting where mosquitos swarm.

Not for them the hot meadow air
sandstorm dry and thick with dust.

Precocious summer swells
and swallows sap and singing

the high-pitched swift-shrill unheard
in this thunder-ocean overhead
where kites and buzzards plough
scything the burnished billows.