Kestral in suburbia. A poem by Janet Sillett

Is this Manley Hopkins bird
in its ecstasy?
high pitched screams
over thirties semis
a dislocation of order
as the world shifts

No road kill this spring
the carrion is nestling fallen from the weeping pear
the mysterious trails of mice
ciphers in the soil
waiting for seeds

The bird flies against the May wind
inert, disobeying physics
hovers and drops
on sacrificial prey
its cries penetrating the silent street

The bird of prey has gone
the July garden is vibrant
with poppy and sunflower
you can no longer hear the hum of bees
or the whisper of dragonfly wings
you inhale the eruptions of laughter

Evening stills the sounds
a sense of unease is imprinted
in ultra violet light


I have started writing poetry again after an absence of decades. I am reading poetry every day and have been learning more through participating in online poetry courses and reading the poetry of my fellow participants.

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