Wednesday, 14 July 2010

Pigeon

Often, you draw our attention by

a clumsy commotion in the tree crown.

What does this battering of branches, this

tumbling down leaf stairs, mean?

Or we have watched your clownish

advances on the roof tiles, little hopeful bobbing

runs and waddling downcast retreats.

Once, while driving, one of your sottish number

flew above my car bonnet, fleeing in the direction

of travel, wings thrashing, a terrified mascot.

In the loopy bird world you seem only excelled

by the pheasant who waits stoically road side

until the precise moment to step into oblivion –

a feather-scatter shot over the hedge.

Nevertheless, I recognize the failing to linger

blithely in the very tread of catastrophe.

One can fancy oneself at peace just

before the smiling sky is due to fall.

And yet you have one trick that turns the

edge of contempt, one moment of grace.

That brief gliding flight – swooping up, half stall

and then the long equal descent. For an instant,

silhouetted against the sky, you seem a portent.

Zeus’ eagle stooping on a heavenly missive.

That impression abides, redeems, rescues,

even if, at the last, you land in a heap.