Summer afternoon

Dozing in and out of an open book,
hot-headed in the baking brightness,
sounds coalesce:

Ears buffeted by eddying breezes,
conversations drifting across fencetops,
a lazy wind-chime,
gravel crunch and a distant saw.

The wheeze and hum,
click and whir of hidden insects.
Flies, like far-off squadrons of returning airmen
and the lilting strobe of gaudy wings
on crazy flightpaths.

[Piers Northam]

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