Glory be
They are out for the first time
Fluttering nibbling
Alone
Afraid but not afraid
Baby robin and blackbird exploring
Dabble my feet
Confused in the confusion
CHILDHOOD
A SHORT DROP FROM THE NEST.
poet
Glory be
They are out for the first time
Fluttering nibbling
Alone
Afraid but not afraid
Baby robin and blackbird exploring
Dabble my feet
Confused in the confusion
CHILDHOOD
A SHORT DROP FROM THE NEST.
A young girl
In her school uniform
sits by the canal
A swan passes
Winks at her
Beauty to Beauty
There she is
WORRYING THE TRIVIAL INTO CRISIS
IT WAS HIS VOICE
THAT TURNED MY HEAD
STANDING IN MID AIR
CELEBRATING HIS SONG
HIS WINGS
WAFTING HIS VOICE TO ME
AGAIN I BREATHED SPRING
BROWN MUD NEST
SOFT FEATHER BED
YELLOW BEAKS
YOUNG
MOUTHS OPEN
ANXIOUS FOR FOOD
BABIES
THEN AN ORDINARY HAPPY LAD
GENTLY LIFTS THE NEST DOWN
SOUNDS OF CHIRPING
AS HE LAID IT DOWN
SECURELY
ON THE RAILWAY LINE
THE TRAIN CAME
A LONG SILENCE
IT WAS OVER
THE EXECUTION OF THE INNOCENTS
THE BOY CHEERED
I HIT HIM
THE OTHERS HIT ME
I WENT HOME CRYING.
I HAVE AN OFFICE BESIDE THE CANAL
BESIDE A WATERWAY
BESIDE THE PECH AND BREAM
WHERE WATERHEN AND DUCK
MAKE A CIRCLE
AND GULLS THROW AN ECHOE INTO THE HOUSES
I HAVE A PACE TO GO
WHEN PRESSURE BUILDS
WHERE ROBIN FILLS MY FEET WITH LIGHT
AND FINCHES FLY IN RYTHEM OVERHEAD
WHERE LEAVES TURN MIST INTO TEARS
AND I CAN ROLL MYSELF
IN THE APRON OF THE BLACKBIRD.