Are We Winning? by Sacha Hutchinson

Begin again my singing stonechat
my silent morning cat
this field of repositioned cows
one white, one red, one black.

Begin again my time-tabled day
twelve hours to stitch ahead.
First, WhatsApp my mother
cocooned in a distant land
walks me through the garden
her scarf wound loose around
today, splashes of pink
match the early rose.

Begin again that question
“are we winning?” hangs
unanswered in
scented, song filled air.

Next, the ten o’clock cycle
past the barn where
swallows swoop
a six week flight
to last year’s nest,
this pinpoint on their route.

Begin again
nature’s certainty
in our lock down world
that doesn’t know.

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