Sunday, 9 September 2007

Birds poem

Boards, blue-feathery
vegetative plumage, the sugar
beach and blue seagrass and

these top-heavy saurian fowl,
the glitchers, the oil-eyed,
polyphonic song and sunflames

like stalks, these possess
the finesse to leave it all behind.
That authenticated quotation

about migrating birds, the
stork in heaven knoweth
the time of their coming

is not, that’s to, not it, aw,
at all, awe, aw, stalk-legs, and
zipper-feathers adhering each

to each and sand-coloured timber
shaped and planed to curves
fitted together as the set.

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