Calendar lyrics
by Owen Sheers
Spring
Swallows crotchet and
minim the telephone wires,
sing volts down the line.
Summer
Bees go down at the
lips of foxgloves, nervous like
a lover's first time.
Autumn
A spider has danced
a fingerprint in the space
between two branches.
Winter
Nests clot in the veins
of the tree- the rooks are a
passing infection.