Take Off

Nature’s Concordes -
Herring Gulls, thrusting
forward on a sandy runway,
take off over the sea.
They encompass the sky
in parentheses and return,
landing safely on wet sand
until the next departure.

Christmas Carol

They called me Carol.
I was born on
Christmas Day.
Not original
but better than
Holly.

They found me
on the doorstep.
Wrapped up
in a sweatshirt.
Stuffed in a plastic bag.
Kept me warm enough.

I’ve been on a few
doorsteps since me.
Got through a few
plastic bags,
newspapers too.
Don’t read ‘em.

Got a sleeping bag now
So I’m OK
like
swaddled innit?

Lost Mind

You had once a fine mind.
But now, no longer.
Words will not come.
You can not find
those needed in the lumber
of your cobwebbed brain.

‘It’s only the postman.’
‘It’s only the postman.’
Repeated childlike as he
brings your book. We see
your words from a time past,
when words flowed
and that fine mind,
was not lost
in the search,
for
a
right
word.