Ellie Rees is a former teacher who retired and became a poet. Her first collection, ‘Ticking’ was published by Hedgehog Press in January of this year.

Twilight is coloured with shades of memory,

            it breathes anticipation.

Each spring when it arrives

            It’s as if you had forgotten

how it stirs the lost perfume

            of summer on your skin.

It alters sound – like that of birdsong,

            transforms other noise:

a car driving past, the bleat of distant sheep

            the dusty awakening of that first tawny owl.

The song of the thrush in isolation

            is sharp like crystal

a focused vibration that trembles the dark.

When does this half-light merge with the night –

            how long does it last before then?

One window says ‘Now’ – another ‘Not yet’.

            Time to cook supper, then

sit round the table and still

            we have not needed to pull down the blinds.