New Romney (From ‘breath And Bone’) Poem by Simon Foulkes

As a lark falls
Silent, with sudden destined purpose
So
A man turns, shielding his eyes from the sun
Scans the sky as music stops.
Out of the blue the musician comes
He brings all before him
Wreathed in laurel, white-robed;
Amongst the Norman pillars
Of old stone, shape of piety
A form of prayer, knelt
In white silence
Looking up again
At the curve of coloured light
When with an impassioned roar of glass
The shape of that bird, foreshadowed,
Shatters on the tiles