The Blackbird’s Nest and The Pangolin of the World. Two Poems by Anita Greg

The Blackbird’s Nest


Dried out wet-wipes;
Filter ends,
All frayed, of cigarettes;
Wrigley’s wraps
Of chewing
Gum. A feather,
Some moss, dried
Grass and
And hair
And mud
Are brought
By bird
To build

A hollow bed
To hold the speckled blue


The neighbour has been round again – to borrow five pounds for the gas
Until his pay comes through next Wednesday
We’re under new rules – Stay at Home
By text from GUV UK and how will THIS pan out ?
Is anybody’s guess.
The nest is on his ground-floor windowsill

But safe enough from cats

The walls are high and topped with broken glass
And this is dog country without
Much outwards sign of kindness but
Everyone throws breadcrumbs out
Into the street for pigeons and sometimes at a closer look
It’s birdseed spread across the tarmac like a Universe of stars


The Pangolin of the World


The pangolin is tightly curled
Its tail is in its teeth
Around the margins of the world

World without end
I was meek
Ate ants – I should have been your friend –

– By millions, sightless I eat
termites from the heap
Fished out with my endless, sticky tongue

I am old and scaley, you are young.
ἓν τὸ πᾶν ( en to pan )
-”The All is One”

1 Comment

  1. The birdseed on tarmac being stars is genius, will stay with me all day. You make the beauty out of every day!

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