Ian, on his early stroll
Echoing the snail
A natural procession
Like on a mausoleum trail
Stridently a birdsong choir
Warble poems on the wing
From a gallery to those below
Not yet celebrating spring
A tap-tap flick of a walking stick
In fellowship passing by
Beneath a cloudy woollen wear
Whose aim is warming up the sky
Echoing the snail
A natural procession
Like on a mausoleum trail
Stridently a birdsong choir
Warble poems on the wing
From a gallery to those below
Not yet celebrating spring
A tap-tap flick of a walking stick
In fellowship passing by
Beneath a cloudy woollen wear
Whose aim is warming up the sky
Completely nobbled from Ian McMillan's early morning walk tweet today:
"The sky wears a cardigan of cloud. A snail moves slowly towards the cemetery, like we all do. Birdsong’s spontaneous exuberance. At the top of the hill, the bottom of the hill beckons. The bloke with the walking stick and I exchange morning greetings."
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