For hours and hours

Cold came. Rain fell.
The poles you painted purple
glowed. We spoke.

– Silke Heiss, 29th June 2020


In no hurry for spring

In the Norfolk pine –
three sacred ibis
a-doze, at sunrise.

– Silke Heiss, 2nd July 2020


On the road

Across it, he gallops –
with his silky coat,
which the wind blows,
and the sun catches

– the baboon,
between hairless, zooming cars.

– Silke Heiss, 21st July 2020