Reclaiming the birdboy
I run again past that familiar sadness
of rusting struts – old plane
drowned in the harbour
and I thank you, sinews, for holding up
despite my knowing
a body may become a flock of bones
never hollow enough to fill with flight
I tried to kill the bird
many times, by emptying it fast or slow
and how right these hovering gulls fighting
over fish and chip paper from the takeaway
that stank the terror of oil
and I never thought these land-legs
would muscle strong, nor these scarred
unfeathered arms
would fleet the wind like this - in updrafts
an unclouded message:
feel your shape made to float free
you perfect engine
from all the mud
that ever denied you this air
I run again past that familiar sadness
of rusting struts – old plane
drowned in the harbour
and I thank you, sinews, for holding up
despite my knowing
a body may become a flock of bones
never hollow enough to fill with flight
I tried to kill the bird
many times, by emptying it fast or slow
and how right these hovering gulls fighting
over fish and chip paper from the takeaway
that stank the terror of oil
and I never thought these land-legs
would muscle strong, nor these scarred
unfeathered arms
would fleet the wind like this - in updrafts
an unclouded message:
feel your shape made to float free
you perfect engine
from all the mud
that ever denied you this air
Ankh Spice is a sea-obsessed poet from Aotearoa (New Zealand) whose work has appeared in a wide range of online and print publications internationally, and has been twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize. You can find him mostly on Twitter @SeaGoatScreams.