The day’s first interpreters
our private thoughts, the chattering of birds.
Even asleep we are telling stories
in a colourful soliloquy, to ourselves
Like a screen, the sky will slowly lighten.
Waiting for the
day to be imposed
the radio is my companion.
Light breaks out like a colourful disease.
Before the news come farming and religion
the two verities – god and food
Without them we would surely weaken.
We would forage with foxes and magpies
for scraps to eat in the hedgerows.
