I heard birds

 I heard birds
 on my return;
 shrill bursts through the
 stringy silhouettes of trees
 branches twisting
 as new Spring leaves
 reached out in the dark of the early morning.
 My footsteps echoed on the pavement
 church bells
 and soft lights slipped and fell from windows
 of shops and flats
 while street lamps clicked off
 as I passed.                                                                                                  
 Eyes closed.
 The sky hung low
 over the park
 that was sunk deep in the middle;
 a crater in the surface of the earth
 filled with grass and other living things
 the train tracks gone.
 We circled the rim like eagles
 heads bowed to the ground
 and your hair, blonde now
 and soft as goose down
 waved; fluffy
 in the moon breeze;
 your newly browned skin
 creasing like paper
 rubbed out by the wind.
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