Workhorse heels clip clop across the carpark
Past tatterdemalion schoolchildren,
My coat Galapagos Iguana dark
My emerald tie discretely hidden:
Thoughts drawn down from the blue Universal
Indentured to a future of folders
And faxes, hearing the telephone call,
The worlds weight upon white-shirted shoulders
When, from a box behind a pizza shop
A starling appears so close I can see
Her black-feathered breast is an oil slick green.
We stop and compare sun flash eyes, she hops
Away into the carpark skies and I
Throw up my thoughts again, bound but alive.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem