Goodbye, blue sky

To see the Summer Sky
Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie-
True Poems flee -
(Emily Dickinson)

London Diary: Summer's last stand

It filters through the leaves


It colours the skies


You can see it reflect in the robin's eye


As the great tit contemplates the days gone by


The grass sings it isn't time, as yet, for goodbye


It is still summer: it's summers last stand with its head held high.