Disparate Spaces Chases And Faces Poem by Andy Brookes

These disparate things of eye, nose, mouth and eye
blue tails feathers fly, a wrinkle of time,
the parrot cries longing for her forest home
green on green on green
but she is caged like slivers of heart
clasped basket, deformed she rocks form side to side.

these disparate stitched sutured dreams
patched from earth and air and fire
brown meandering like river threads,
lapis blue skies shot through with doubt
horizon crying grey fat droplets in lieu of tears.

would we have made it I ask?
or were we, are we, two more disparate things
tossed like salad parts red and green
oil and vinegar or sugar sweet and sour.

too late we two disparate things
of flesh and bone and sinew
we will I'm sure one day be washed up on alien shores
beached tossed drifted wood brittle as salt
till then we are just these two disparate things,
of eye, nose, mouth and eye.