The river slow in early summer heat, towpath good walking surface
To my disciplined stride, good boots, conversation shortening miles.
Swans nest on the far bank, the male
Arching his wings in flaring threat as I pass, explosion of feathers.
Moorhens shop in frenzy on the river's mall
Mallard are adolescent in direct lust, in flurried confusion.
Pigeons crash through branches, clapping wings at their own miracle
Of heavy-bodied flight.
Swallows grab a stirrup-cup as they mount in flight.
A hawk circles in a study of pretended laziness.
A firework kingfisher lights blue touch paper, rockets bush to tree.
The water eddies sometimes, but is mostly slow, so too
The talk of fields and birds, the survival of the elm
And children.