Intruder Poem by Thomas P White

It all happened so quickly.
The wild duck rose, while I
Jumped in my tracks, my heartbeat
Quickening like its flaps of flight.
Before this we were quite content
To share in whatever stillness
The day allowed. Our world
If zoomed in on was the frail
Click of reeds being coaxed
By wind and water.
How ironic then
That all of this and more
Which initially lured us here?
Became each other's intruder.

The time is now long passed
Since that days fated intrusion.
Yet sometimes with little else
To ponder on, I imagine you
Somewhere, far away, crouching
To enter someone else's presence.
For as you rose you circled
As if utterly lost or dazed.
And I took this in
As if my whole existence
Was dependant on your instinct
To fly me out beyond those hills
That were but transitory to you.




(First published in New Writing
Irish Press circa 1984)