The crows are in a flap. They swirl
like tea leaves round the tree, then furl.
*
A buzzard climbs invisible spiral stairs,
biding its time, giving itself airs.
*
Hold-hammering – what a palaver! –
Great Tit in his balaclava.
*
Like a silent film with sound,
sparrows’ jerky frames abound.
*
Magpie! Magpie! Upon your life –
where are your rings? Your pins? Your wife?
*
Glimpsed at the end of a watery lane,
where the reeds close in – a swan.
*
There’s nothing left of the jolly jackdaw
but some entrails, a wing and a claw.
*
Whenever you enter a field
the heron is landing in the next field.
*
Fillet, pullet, wallet, millet, mullet –
seagull rams it ravenously down his gullet.
*
A rook and snowman on a lawn
like a black rook and a white pawn.
*
In the hedgerow, now and then
you overlook a wren.
*
The skylark’s song unravels all day
while we below make love, make hay.
*
The blackbird and the brown blackbird:
the first word and the last word.
________________
Mark McGuinness’ poems have appeared in Magma, Oxford Poetry, The Rialto and The
Wolf. He was awarded Third Prize in the 2016 Stephen Spender Prize.
www.markmcguinness.com