Lee Wilkinson

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By The Swan: The Guildford Bridge: Winter,2012

There are pelicans on the river this
Morning. Two. Great flesh net
Mouths and pink bills tucked
Into bodies as they drift white and
Black plumes of steam rising from the leaf rot
River. White Standard poodle at my side quivers
Still
In the moment

For the fizz of tyres and red
Daub and scape of
Brakelight on the bridge,
The thwump tuwumump bass
Of traffic, and the distant
Growl of jets warming
For flight are gone.

And it is
Simply, We, in the lifting
Night


For a moment the very
Centre of things settles
Between
Us and eye to eye
We
Share a commune of
Being
In an infinite second.

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