a mallard calls

and I recall last winter

dark water

 

The black water reflects passing clouds and the birds feed quietly. There is no courtship, no disputing of territory and no chiding of wandering offspring.

 

Low sun flashes off the green heads of the mallard drakes and a shopping trolley shimmers just below the surface, a reminder of more riotous times. Across the water, the lights of the café come on, drawing us in towards the scent of coffee.

 

north wind

rattling in the tree

the last brown leaf