• Sam Hacking

Suffolk Pink

Crows line the heads of Poplar Trees.

charp and bark, taking to the sky in lumbering pace

Eyes cry in cold air.

An iced pond

everything suspended, still

Mushrooms balloon across chip bark, I pop them underfoot

Great Tits follow in hedges

tiny bulbs poke out of earths face, stubble on a chin.

Holes in the ground, digging Green Woodpeckers.

Blackbirds and Robins keep one eye open

Jackdaws sit in a row on pylon line, suspended over field

Still, dark, dots.

Stone steps, seep cold into jeans.

The chatter of birds

starlings crackle, whistle, pop, rumble.

Low light, cool in colour

hazy, blue, subdued.

Gun shots

echo and burn in fields.

Suffolk Pink is the colour of home.

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