Day 766 of the Daily Poems, and it is a January morning. Our poet Roger Elkin has his breath taken away by its sheer madness, its wealth.
January morning
is all magpie.
Ribbons of snow in fields, beneath hedgerows,
lagging in furrows and hollows;
streamers of grit-stone walls spilling downhill
and beyond over the moors;
a pale duck-egg sky, just a patch,
a flash between pushing clouds
these, all these are its feathers.
The clarity of light is its seed eye.
The chiseling of frost its hard bill.
The keen of the wind its day call.
And the magpie its mirror, its toy.
It’s so much it takes your breath away.
“God,” you say, “sheer madness,
such wealth.”
And is made better, made worse
by knowing that no matter
how hard you applaud
it won’t fly way,
won’t fly away.
Roger Elkin
The poem first appeared in Roger’s 2002 collection, ‘Home Ground’