There was a hoopoe in the garden this morning.
meandering wandering doodling
(as hoopoes apparently do)
with a long spear beak
a crest like a crown,
tapping stem feet,
and dark jewelled eyes.
What might life be like, for a hoopoe?
methinks in the fresh morning glaze
dropping in on my island
for a bite to eat, and then fly fly fly
away in the sky, far far
Away to where?
birds flow on their cumulus currents
to pastures green, greener
than it was, birds flock
in the cumulus currents of daylight
and nightlight skies, where oh where?
(29th March 2014)
YOU ARE READING
Blue Moon
Poesía"Still she haunts me, phantomwise, Alice moving under skies Never seen by waking eyes." - Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There (2012 - 2014)
