ISSN 1758-6488
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Four Poems Poetry |
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but, remain gobsmacked at its balancing act,
its light-footed, easy-does-it, there-there, now-now knack,
the quiet science behind its body’s equilibrium,
its give and take, tightrope-walker-like suspension,
which makes me see an order in the world, a system,
and think it’s not so bad, it’s not all doom and gloom.
And so, birds yap all through all the ash trees
as evening burns into the back of my head, recedes,
and so it is that I weigh things up, catch myself on –
second suns, one-off stars, robins, leylandii –
caught up in all the catchings of the eye.
