41

IMG-20160409-WA0001Three wood pigeons
sitting on an antenna.

I am in the roof of the house.
My ceiling is a V.

A poet needs a window.
You write, because of the light.

Hope you are enjoying this,
the first day of July.

That I was born
41 one years ago today

is my mother’s achievement,
rather than my own,

least of all my father.
Thank you, mother.

Note Well:
The temperature in Cyprus,

41 degrees,
as opposed to the temperature

in the UK, 20 degrees,
where the one,

at least for me,
represents my age to day

whilst the other represents
the age I feel to day.

One by one
the wood pigeons

nosedive
off the antenna

and soar
so beautifully

they make falling
seem

perfectly
necessary.

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2 thoughts on “41

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