StylusLit

September 2018

Back to Issue 4

Aviators

By Carl Walsh

I

we inhabit the shade-cast spaces
where wan post-rain sun fails to grasp

& hold the tarmac or concrete foot
-paths where we still from our walking

to look into the light.

 

II

this morning crow left a black feather 
fluttering in his wake & it falls before us

in a gentle stilling of movement that holds
us for a moment in the confusion between 

earth & sky.

 

III

together we twine – crow, you & I 
to feel the moment through talon-ed feet 

the drift of tail, bite of beak & ruffle 
of air where arms have scorned

skin for feathers.

 

IV

on time-laden wings we loop & meet the sky 
where sky meets earth to plunge between 

known & unknown our feathers shabby 
& dust-filled our eyes beady bird-eyes sharp 

in their forgetfulness.