I guess my speed was fifty miles an hour.
You judged it wrong, black bird, flying across my path.
Perhaps you never heard me,
flying blissful, purposeful, into my path.
We stopped. Looked in the mirror,
saw you lie there.
Walked back, hoping against the worst.
Caressed you, nursed you,
your body still warm. And black. But still.
With no warning, ours was now a lesser journey.
___________________________________________
Published in Norfolk Poets & Writers Anthology 2008 - "highly commended"
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment