Today I am not cabbage white,
tearing holes in a web, my flutter trapped.
Today I am spider, binding wings in a bundle.
Today I am not sparrowhawk,
pestered, driven from my treeline patrol.
Today I am jackdaw, a single-handed mob.
I am not today eye-line over prison wall.
Today I am poky bookshop,
my stacked spines tense to touch, spellbound.
Today, as one of six magpies,
I bossed an empty children’s park.
Tomorrow I shall be the glint of sun on its railing.
iv.2015
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