The urgency of Spring,
eruptions of patterns and veins
Oak's infant leaves,
pale green, blushed terracotta and fox fur red
Comfrey bells shivers at the touch of the bees
Umbelliferous froth of cow parsley
I sit beneath the hedges,
The same darkling hedges of winter
Which held me within their ancient thorns,
Now transformed to bucolic seats
By hawthorn's Rosaceae stars
Fieldfare long departed,
Yet Swifts scorch the sky
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