COLLISION COURSE

We dip its beak in water,

Bring it back to flesh and feather.
Mercifully, the neck is not broken.

One bird, newly fledged,

And beyond parental control,
Flying smack into cruel glass.

٭ ٭ ٭

I would have left things at that,
Content to have played a merciful God
In front of my younger children.
But then you take a pot-shot
With your airgun,
And only by luck, miss.

As you battle with the dark side,

And rid your teens of humour,
There is no therapeutic water dip;
Nor do gentle giants, eyes agog,
Will you into fairy-tale flight.

Between needle and black-out,

You flicker on the edge of humanity,
And watch me die.



(c) Michael Newman