Where wolds meet sky and clouds are fishing boats,
Luckily there’s nowhere I’d rather be
Than where I am. A blackbird’s notes
Sound just as good in either place, as pure,
I am transported by the joy, the evening song
Perched on chimney pot or tree, I am sure
That both places are where I belong.
But sometimes there is a special feel
To smaller city skies and the precious art
Of the blackbird chorister. I would kneel
To thank Something from my grateful heart,
But of course I would feel quite compromised
Being cool, ironic and civilised.
©James Nash 2019