in the throes
of January shadows
admire the simplicity
of a blackbird perched
on a limb of silver birch
a songbird whose
sweet notes pour forth
from its tiny fragile throat
to greet my morning
where brushwood twigs
suspended in fine tangles
sweep the sunshine air
bedraggled like bedroom hair
night time beguiling
has made early hours
lighter and brighter
my window eyes smiling