Wild bees have occupied the swifts’ nesting box
sparrows colonised last spring and summer.
The sun casts fleeting, waltzing shadows
on the white walls of the house – males and queens
at their love-making. A carrion crow
with a chunk of bread in its machined beak
alights on the rim of the bird bath
as if from some dark play. It dunks the bread.
Over in the west the sky is ivory
through a break in the clouds. A box, and a bath,