‘Mallards’ by C. Murray


This is the crossroads,
this is where it is.

Black cat killed a chaffinch,
see her rust feathers

descend, feather-blown
they roll down stone steps.

and your freedom –

even a robin heralds it. Someone,
someone has put bunting up.

You are caught on the first step of your descent,
in a pause of red, of white,

in this absolute now.

Mallards is © C. Murray, Image is © Salma Caller