Out of school.....

Each morning from Monday to Friday
Just beyond the birds eating, treating
Beyond the browned beech hedging,
Children stroll to the school bus.
From right to left across my view
Of birds and hedge.
Each carries a days supplies to the front line.

At 4.30 pm precisely
The same children,
Across my eyeline,
From left to right,
Ignore the swooping birds

Worn down already
With the backpack of evening doom.

Being at the ditch has wearied them
So they neither see bird
Nor the blue skied sunniness
Of a February Valentine.
Nor me peeking at them from a foreign clime.

Whilst they have trudged
From here to there
And back again.

I have written a poem.