In our absence, to
unknown weather, there was
an explosion of green - how
tall the weeds are growing
and all our plants
put out their hopes for
colour in the sun

how humid the air, how
green and moist the land,
how lush everything looks
not scoured by island wind
not pounded by Atlantic rain.

A day outside, burning sun,
regrouping in our settings -
I cannot hear the cuckoo now,
but all the little birds are here
and the bees are loud.

One Year Round The Sun
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