Before Six O’Clock - a poem by Sr Margaret Atkins
Before six o’clock it is their kingdom, each
A singing centre, a lord of its own.
Humanity asleep is sidelined; I
Irrelevant, alert, alone,
In khaki slow-paced silence, fearing to break
Their dawnlight assurance of early May.
The blackbirds carol, from peak of every tree,
The song thrush chants his doubled lay.
The tiny avian king - troglodytes twice …