PICKINGS
Poetry from NHI publications
LARK |
---|
Much of the time I can't come near enough Except to see your mad sky-flapping High up at the cloud's edge, your wings trembling and trilling Like your shrill song A sort of agony Taking it out on the air Trying to rub yourself a way out, a way in You're up Away And there isn't a line to pull you back in But sometimes driving past I see you at rest on the stone gate-post Always the same place You have a fixation for it Your mad eye, flexing wildly Your crest cocked against the sky Your beak gawping and gawping All of you a twitch Like some nervous wreck Relaxing between hang-ups Surely things can't be that bad That the world's driven you berserk So you rise to escape Soar Soar But haven't the lift to get clean away Though you give everything Even your song, a plea for release Or is it just moor skylarking Flying her kite With no strings attached |
ROGER ELKIN |
from New Hope International New Series #2 Next poem Previous poem |
Pickings NHI home page Books Magazines |
Web design by Gerald England This page last updated: 24th November 2005. |