sheena blackhall

(18/8/1947 / Aberdeen)

The Storm Nursery


Two siblings, we enter the cable car
Not sitting close together

The car is a blown egg shell
Rising up from the car park
A thin screech

The great Alp yawns below
We are wingless birds
In a troubled glass pod,
A frail and tilting cradle
We hang from a slim thread

Ignoring the warning
‘Do not rock the car’
My brother does so

This is the storm nursery
For the heirs of Icarus

Submitted: Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Edited: Wednesday, June 30, 2010
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