27/03/2026
Poem for the week by Elaine Dunstan.
When I was out walking
When I was out walking with the trees that spring,
a brief startling sound cracked the fresh afternoon air
somewhere. High in the newly green canopy
a furious flapping body had risen in panic,
quickening my heart. A branch, hollow with age,
had snapped loose, the fall momentary halted
by claws still gripping their favoured perch,
wings lifting against gravity.
Of course, gravity won.
The bird rose, the branch fell and the muffled thud, as it
met the grassy floor, was strangely satisfying,
as if some long dead thing in me, had finally
broken and slipped through my own desperate fingers
and I'd found the wings to rise.