Their wings were dusted with summer ...

There's no one about my dad said - they must all be having breakfast - 

My mum was pushing her sholley along the familiar pavement -

My dad was walking behind her with his stick - 

Sometimes it seems a long way he said - 

The bells of St Faiths were ringing - 

I looked up to see spring blossom on awakening trees - 

Cloud gave way to blue sky - 

Swallows flew over the church tower - 

Their wings were dusted with summer -

09.30

Sunday 24 April 2016

West Street

Havant