A blank page a single line appears.
Cool and grey apart from the melee
A single bird flying against the cloud
In winter framed by the skeletons
Wind beaten shrouding the evening light.
These afar a distant call crying
A solo but soon a strange chorus
Conversation? Perhaps though too random
Overtaken by sound more felt than heard
Ear beating muscle and sinew bent
Overhead to propel the arrow
Grey to grey across the world’s troubles
Here unseen as the passion of flight
Holds the eye and the wind beats the ear.
And then gone like a train in the night
Echoing more in some inward room
In the soul, leaving a darker grey,
Sodium pin pricked; traffic rumbling;
Urgency left at a safe distance.