I'm listening to my thoughts

I'd like to light a fire

But there's washing on the line

In the garden next door.

I'm listening to the trees

And watching as they dance

In full leafy green regalia

A strange arboreal  Strictly.

I'm listening to the birds

A mother twittering crossly

As baby comes too close

I'm breathing softly.

I'm listening to the wind

Shifting sodden clouds

Looming grey and gloomy

Heading home for evening.

I'm listening to the space

Between me and them

And wondering "is it mine?"

Because I feel it.