Birthday Poem

Red light on the horizon
and the sound of birdsong
and a light, white, rime
on the cars and the low roofs
and the fence posts,
like cold glass
beneath my fingertips.

New morning, in a new place,
turning a new year in my life.
What can I say to the world, but
‘Here I am’?

Sometimes I think:
‘I would give the whole world
to be other than this.’
but that’s not a choice
which is given to me.

So I stand here,
and listen to the birds
and watch the changing sky
and lean on the fence
and stroke the smooth ice.

To welcome another day,
another year,
another chance for hope.

Linda Rushby 7 April 2021