Fly Past

My sandwich lunch, with mug of tea, is taken underneath the flightpath of sparrows

Arrowing between the hedgerow, across the orchard to a nest space under the clay-red roof tiles of the farmhouse

They fly close by, within a metre, not deflected from their route out and back, an unerring course, passing right by my head

I am here, a part of early summer

But not here, as far as the sparrows are concerned


CLP 15/05/2019