Poetry from NHI publications

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


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

New Hope International New Series #2

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