Convalescence

A child’s voice,
Passing cars, footsteps,
A dog’s bark, distant sirens, and
Birds, above all, birds,
Notes swelling, filling the air.
And I, newly risen
From the sickbed
Stand fresh-eyed at
The open window, breathe, listen
And am amazed.

I’m Andrew, I’m 52 and live in England. I’ve been writing since I was a teenager and I wrote the poem below earlier this year after being  laid low with a bad back.

blog: https://grumpyman1969.wordpress.com/

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