The hard jobs

day of sun, cool air, blue
skies, tiny white clouds, we
tackled the hard jobs of
hedge and grass: tough
thorny stalks, five lawns

the swifts have gone, the
skies were empty of all but
a few house martins
I saw no swallows
May to September is their
time above me then the
skies are empty
for winter to fill

how long and hard their
journey to the sun
such courage beating
in their tiny bodies

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