All Things Flying (Poetry)

Every time I’ve glanced out of the window
something flies the far side of the glass
a leaf, a strand of spider’s silk, some thistledown
or a carooming ladybird goes past

in search of somewhere safe to spend her winter
October sunlight picking spots of red
shining like a lamp each open wingcase
raised aloft and by strong instinct led

The air is full of scraps of Autumn’s debris
a sudden gust grabs at a few more leaves
and whirls them in displays of aeronautics
before they crash and the good earth receives