Cuckoo Cocoon. A poem by Michael Durack

In April come she will,
her travelling expenses nil.

In May she’ll sing all day
(plus overtime) for zero pay.

In June she’ll change her tune:
cuckoo, cocoon, cuckoo, cocoon.

Hear that bird in hills and dells
rework the same two syllables.

In July she will fly
without a wave or kiss goodbye.

In August with a bit of luck you
won’t be hearing from the cuckoo.


Michael Durack lives in Tipperary, Ireland. His work features in journals such as The Blue Nib, Skylight 47 and Poetry Ireland Review. Publications include a memoir, Saved to Memory: Lost to View (2016) and a collection, Where It Began ( Revival, 2017.) A second collection, Flip Sides, is forthcoming from Revival Press.

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