Twinned by antipode,
on a river with a ticket to the sea
the swan raises her wings a little to allow a cygnet security.
A feather escpes,
is joined by petals, liberated from their ‘bloom-by’ date
near reeds with tiny shadows, while the damsel fly dances for his mate.
The sundial has not time,
No minutes or hours just one black line
at the top. Nothing to,or past – just brass that mirrors sun shine.