From “Terrestrials”
A sparrow weaves over the derelict terrace
the psychics used to meet in
toward the snow-garnished mountains!
They brought their lozenges of grief here,
held each other’s pallid hands and summoned
reeds of kindness into their voices!
The men down tools, take lunch, smoke
in a row, dangle their legs from the wall!
They’re kids mostly; a xylophone
of hard hats tuneless in the rain!
The half-built apartment block is waiting
and they will never live there!
I knew a boy who wanted to be a pilot
so much that he became one!
Farewell, years of simulated taxiing
on the world’s fantastic runways!
O night flights over the patchwork of Europe!
O unscheduled layover! O seat belt sign!
I knew a man who hiked into the mountains!
His name was early morning light!
His name was sunset in Libra!
Between the Scots pine and the ash
he found the branch with his name on it
and stepped off it into the air!
Source: Poetry (March 2019)