“Mallards” by C. Murray

Mallards

This is the crossroads, this is where it is.

Black cat has killed a male chaffinch.
There are rusty feathers all over, feather blown

they roll down the steps                            |they indicate a way|

your freedom,

                            robin heralds it,
                            someone has put up bunting
                                                                even, and

you are caught on that first step of your descent
in a pause of red,
of white.

 “Mallards” is © C. Murray & it was first published in ANU 48