Black water
white cliff
silver car disgorged
down the night
ferry road
A sudden misalignment of
cats' eyes
screeched clutch and brake
sickening resistance
stalled silence.
It wasn't an owl, you lie
unclawing my hands
and when we reach the house
you distract me from searching
the treads - there are
children and bags to unpack
But something uneasy
something small feathered
requiring payment
has come home with us.
A bare 25 moons later
we stand in our hundreds
on the beach beneath the cliff
pure coincidence -
the only Island site to grant you
permission to launch -
We have come to hurl
champagne-wet cheers
at each gaudy ricochet
of your elemental dust.
Only I know
only my numb bones know
that after we have left, after we leave
a payment will be made -
as what remains of you
falls to rest
black
upon the
black water.
This is a virgin snap - my first - a snap back to Caleb's original hawk and suitcase. Everything about it is very rough, but the subject was irresistible, and I have run out of time. The story and the coincidence of place are true. Apologies for submitting such a crude thing - just can't bear sitting on the sidelines anymore. All comments (apart, perhaps, from 'Give Up Now'), gratefully received. Cindy
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