Marsh Mayhem

by Colin Beardshall

The reeds rustle audibly in the wind
Like the flutter of birds on the wing.
Sedge warblers sing territorial songs
While out of sight a Bittern booms.

I still have half my packed lunch of soggy sandwiches.
Should I eat or feed the mallards that view me with intent?
The Mallards win and squabble over my discarded meal.

I pack away my lunch box and drain the flask of tea,
What was that, seen from the corner of my right eye?
Putting the binoculars to eye level I scour the reed beds.

There, I see it, Marsh Harrier on its evening patrol
Seeking the unwary among the restless birds.
One of the sedge warblers has just delivered its swan song.