He is the lord of all he surveys, eventhough it is not that much, less than an acre of lawn and a handful of trees. Still, he likes to keep his beady eye on things, his feathery finger on the pulse. Even if just a single sparrow stirs, he likes to know about it. You […]
I saw you from my window, Margaret.
/ I was watching the seagulls swooping the sky.
/ The seagulls, I was telling myself, know
Not crow, eyes calculating
/ my speed, the distance, his time
/ not blackbird or thrush
/ in a startled trajectory of flight
/ not pigeon, undecided…
When grey shapes slip the shadows of the morning
/ My small birds sit in silence in the eaves
/ But daylight brings indifferent…
Leave, leave your well-loved nest,
/ Late swallow, and fly away.
/ Here is no rest
/ For hollowing heart and wearying wing.
/ Your comrades all have…
Supraeme sits he,
/ His fedders prinkin,
/ Ita da grit sun’s glinkin,
/ A lowin flame,
/ Wi black een blinkin –
/ Nor deevil ane
/ Keens what he’s…
Begin by setting the instructions aside.
/ Instead tune the mind to flight.
/ Attach the huge, clunking wings (treat like hangar doors)
/ – do…
Who calls to the dark, / who calls to the wind on / the surface of the water?…
About ane bank, where birds on bewis
/ Ten thousand times their notis renewis
/ Ilk hour into the day,
For our last meal together / my father takes out of the freezer / a tray of frozen songbirds.
Air iomall an talamh-àitich, eadar dhà sholas,
/ tha a’ churracag a’ ruith ʼs a’ stad, ʼs a’ ruith ʼs a’ stad,