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GOODNIGHT SUNDAY

By Josie Whitehead

Goodnight Sunday

Look!  The afternoon sun sets,

And black, leafless trees throw

Their shadowy reflections into the lake.

 

Like skeletons they dance and move

As the wind gently teases the water.

Now, trembling they stretch their arms.

 

See across the dancing water.

Two small blue kingfishers sit

Discussing fishing tactics.

 

Wisps of cloud float across

The fast fading, darkening, evening sky,

Settling over the moors and rooftops.

 

    Goodnight Sunday . . . .

              I enjoyed your company.

 

Copyright on all my poems

 

This poem could have been inspired by a scene in many places in the world, but I was inspired to write it one winter afternoon when I looked through my window at the convent and the lake behind my home.  I know I'm lucky to have this scene, but I never again remember seeing two kingfishers discussing fishing tactics.  It was a one-off as they normally live near to the River Wharfe, down the road from us.  I hope I've painted this picture well, with my words of course.  Josie

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