Tuesday poem: Missed

Missed
for colin


we are under the power lines    under the tui    admiring the self-importance in that white
bubble throat    you’re wearing the tapestry waistcoat and the flying jacket heavy as a
sheep        driftwood for a walking stick        sharks’ teeth on your hat      head cocked
to what I’m saying     it’s lucky in Greece to have a bird dropping land on you


it misses us      just


we howl at this       are helpless with it     our faces cracking      the laughter fat and free
spitting up at the bird the power lines the tree    we chortle it chortles we shriek it shrieks
we merry three       soaring and spilling down the empty street on shiny wings        see,
the boy in the garden     see, Ed and his dog on the beach    see, Evelyn’s lunatic cat    the
bench with David’s name on it     Margaret with lace gloves riding her bike    we suck
and swill and spit     all that’s bright     all that’s ordinary    all that’s upright    all   that
breathes in this sea-licked place    until we are the brightest   breathiest      thing     of    all


there is no sign of the tui now      no sign of its shit       no sign of you      nothing of you
no-one      the air thick with chimney smoke   the crescent moon dark in a navy sky    
the only sound a dog barking   a high cold insistent bark    as if the chain is pulled too tight
around its singing throat


                                                                             mary mccallum






 I hope to make the Tuesday Poem a regular thing. My poems and others.