Cloudy

Beneath a swansdown cloud-umbrella
ferry passengers are mute:
no word disturbs the morning hush
pervading the pontoon. Not a single
mobile phone is switched on;
no one reads a book;
people wait like waxworks,
mesmerised by thrust and glide and hitch
of rowing sculls along the river,
spellbound by staccato cries,
the calls that ricochet
from bird to bird...


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