sheena blackhall (18/8/1947 / Aberdeen)

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