Birds weigh less

Birds weigh less than air

and force themselves to ground.

A fluttering shake of wings

takes them to the skies again

a cloud a cataract a single point.

I feel my heart follow

soaring through the blueness

I feel my heart follow the birds.

After the thunderburst

Only eagles and adult kites could ride out these winds; and the kites with difficulty. The sparrows, prey, remain motionless beneath palm fronds, an occasional shiver and shuffle of feathers betraying their location. Slower than it had arrived with a thunderburst, the rain slows and stops, the wind calms and in the sudden silence birdsong begins to rise again. Now, before the heat sweeps back in, or the southern storm once more, now is the time to find peace, or make peace, or rest, simply rest.

Hedgerow watch





Newspaper (screwed up)


Bacardi bottle

Split bag of dogshit

Sparrow (same one?)


Macdonalds box

Burst balloon

Yet another sparrow


Single, grubby, running sock

Macdonalds bag, can of coke

Gap some idiot’s burnt in hedge

Burnt matchbox

The birds fell (updated)

The birds fell, one by one. At first Ian thought they were diving but they were not, they were falling, some backwards and down as if cuffed from the sky, wings spread like crucified angels, others tilting and tipping, heads heavy with emptiness, falling and falling, wings folding. Their distant fall ended somewhere through the shimmering air. He thought of stories that had started and stories that would never. His story ended.

( 21 October 2013)