Box

We rescued some Box
from the hill
and he is carving
a tiny bowl.  The sun
is strong today for
April and lights-up
the snow still lying
in pockets on the mountain.
My arms are warm as
the breeze sings through
the trees on its way
to the Loch.  Two halves
make one whole
and when we are together
our happy hours console us.
Peaty orange ale
and bird chatter.  A
pheasant paraded near
like a peacock, his
iridescent body puffed
up as he strutted, took
a breath, flapped and
screeched.  I met a 

new person today
who lives on the Dores
shore.  I spoke of my
family, so far away
in space and time.
The clear sun lights the
page and my handed
pen casts a sharp shadow.
The shed door creaks.
I have weeks of summer
ahead, with luck,
the winds will be kind.

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