Windows

 

Windows

Look out, look up, and around;

Time doesn't just fly, thank goodness.

It can swoop or hover,

Float and sleep,

It has, it would seem,

All the moves of the birds.

We can see through a window,

That one great gull

With the strength of a bear

And flashes of light.

It tells us, with style,

All that we know:

That days are mainly

What we can scavenge,

That making a noise

Is basic, personal,

That wings can't be beaten,

Freedom's feathers, so precious.

RF 2025

This was written for a friend's big birthday and read at their party last night. There are stories behind it, of course, but you can see some of your own too, I hope. 

Seagulls also made it into my last 31 Postcodes poem in 2021 - there are a lot of them round here (seagulls and poems). I actually amended that poem a little recently as the last line always bothered me because it wasn't quite right. Most likely no one else will ever notice but if you do listen to the video you will see it doesn't quite match the drapes, as it were.