Poetry

Graeme Hetherington: Three Poems

  Gaol-Bird   I tracked a bird’s broad arrow-print Around the bay to where it lay, Crane, heron, or an egret near Beached fishing boats, neck wrung to judge   From its head lolling back the front. Then I chanced on and scared its mate That rose into a tree to watch, Coldly return my heart-felt look   Of sorrow, till away it flew And I was left, a member of A killer-breed to feel its scorn For my apology for life,   The nature of existence, yet, Descended from a class that wore The same sign as its foot-mark,…

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