View from my window

I watched the trees from my window
Leaves trampolined on kind winds
threw arms aloft; breathed in
their honey smiles
A swallow split my gaze
cutting wings on a sharp turn
startling a wren I almost missed
tiny, like a moth, but with song, and
beating harder into the breeze
towards cover, towards home
Foreground blue tits
hopped from twig-to-twig
springing high, spirit strong
a magnet to their brood, and
sky ferried clouds like ships
like ocean liners, on and on,
and on across still waters,
running deeper into blue
fixed eastwards, a conveyor belt
a ceaseless mass of ice-cream white
queueing behind red kites, rising
twisting, together,
and gone.
Out of sight.