Alan Dixon

Happy the jackdaws surrounded by their playmate Boisterous wind with which they wrestle and roll,Diving against it, wings closed; gripped and thrownMany ways, open-winged, spun in it chacking and looping. Easy to envy jackdaws. Even thoseWho never look up, who curse the stopped and creepingTraffic must see their low flight in the distanceAs they descend to towns jackdaws poke fun at,See them in swirling pairs, amused and matedFor life, defeated only when no one knowsAnd never bullied by a wind too gusty. Having lived too long in a town no jackdaw trusted,Where graveyards lacked their disrespectful tread,I spend my careless time airing my head.