The Aspens are still mute
but new leaves are unfurling
and below this bank 
of diamond studded shields

a boat’s silt covered ribs
are breaking into birdsong,
bluebells and red campion.
Tell me you see it too

the boat with oars
and gleaming helm curved 
like a new moon – 
that you’d seen it out
beyond the herons’ copper seam  
of sand and brake of pylons 
miles before, while I was toying 
with my wilted aspen crown.

2 thoughts on “Aspens

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