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  • 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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