Birds

I wrote to a friend today about a recent journey.
Which brought to mind trips taken in the last years.
And suddenly, in the edgy density of the drenched city, I am reminded of the remarkable bare expanse of other landscapes.

I was in the middle of an ink drawing when a similar flash of memory inspired me to write a poem. I don’t think it will begin to convey to you the extraordinary optical sense of what we saw. All the same, I am, with much hesitation and apology and uncertainty – I don’t write poetry very often - going to post it here.

Birds
explode onto the horizon
as ink from a blow-pen on virgin paper.

expanding
particles of mist
take the v-form of birds in flight,
pinpoints
whose tendrils of absorption echo
the blurring edges of wing flutter.