In January
cows munching holly
distinctly in the cold air.

Tangled, brown-and-light
February strands
falling through a tree-morning.

The sky knows magic of March
as black fingers conjure
patterns from trees.

Nature wonders
at the silver birch in April
in a dust-splendour.

In May the rain
sweeps against young cheeks
and the red brick walls of houses.

Now it is sun
let it sing,
call me out – and the door of June open!

Dusk and spangled blue and bird-calls
in the garden of July.

The great pigs lie in the sun
and children watch them
awestruck in August.

What a ride! day-fires
and sudden rains –
down rollercoaster September.

Difference of leaf-shades
on the same branch:
the different “o’s” in October.

In November blackbirds
grapple with pears:
the red sun sinks in the tree.

A snowdrift fills
a dip in my mind
today in December’s silence.

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