David P Cartwright

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Over Perth Y Collie

Above the firewood cut and split and gathered,
floating, lifted by the breeze,
appeared a raven and a buzzard.
I didn't know there was a nest nearby
and wondered why they flew so close,
tip to tip,
almost hand in hand,
held in still companionship,
drifting over the trees of Perth Y Collie.

Quiet intent and polite restraint,
lingering in this near embrace;
watchful and patient
down practised, familiar ways.
But they'd judged it all along,
weighed the slips of time and distance passing,
felt the moment of a beat of wings,
turned,
and were gone.

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