River Tagus, Spain Close to the river’s surface, birds As sunlit-white as holy doves With their shadows and reflections Search for fish, flutter swiftly to A hovering halt when found. Then wings   Drawn tightly in dive bullet-straight, Concentrated to three-in-one, As I aspire to focus self, Streamline, intensify the hunt Through consciousness to hook a poem.       On Time (George’s Bay, St Helens)   On a grey day, the first of March To be exact, limbs heavy, tired, I felt life ebb and drain away As I looked at the water, still,   Too easily crossed, heard…