I Watched The Road

I sat and, for a while, I watched the road.
I watched the squirrel with the ragged tail
make her daily rounds in search of treasure.
I watched the pheasant, that fine fellow, stalking
puffed up as he crossed the pinstriped lawn.
I watched the crows, those jesters of the air,
make mockery of wind’s attempts to throw them
from almost imperceptibly fine perches.
I watched the pigeons fail to be like crows.
I watched the laden clouds drift slowly by,
looking for a better place to land.
I watched my squirrel friend leap gracefully
from ash to beech to chestnut. Then at last
I watched a car pass by. Once they were common,
their rumbling song would filter through the trees,
a flash of colour glinting in the sun.
But now, like other species under threat,
their absence leaves it’s mark on eye and ear.
And as I sat and watched, the space they left
was filled by squirrel, pheasant, cloud and crow.
I think I like this new view of the road.

© Rich Clarkson 2020