Tuesday 30 April 2013

330

The trees move restlessly
In the bright space beyond
The windowframe. Stark

Noon light spreads from
A broken bank of cloud,
The half-light below its

Dark lower edge moves in
A faint grey haze of rain,
Out past the houses, out

Past the shoreline's arc.
A kinglet drops into the
Frame, swaying upon a

Forked twig. Its olive
Body is lit at its edge by
Two yellow, chevroned

Wings. Poppyseed eyes
Glimmer before its bill
A tiny, blunted cone.

At the center of its dull
Crown, a lick as of red
Emulsion. All its body

Crowds to this point,
Slight nation hinged
About its glowing capital.

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