For the book
Now that I have built you
brought you half-formed out
of the atmosphere
now that I can hold you or at least
have some version of you
available to someone
when I die
I am very proud of you
you didn't know what you were doing
but
you meant to get out
sometimes to take me out with you
you are clear and honest
except where you overly strive to be
too clear and honest
you notice
you have confessed to so many things
you have borne witness
and tried to be true
you couldn't fail to be you
I am in awe of you
the things you remember
the times
the hours you worked with my hands
you stayed with me through my
betrayals
when I would cut things and lines
only now I've built you
I can see what I almost destroyed
a moving thing of beauty
a piece of work
a lifetime
fashioned from cardboard and twine
Unseen seabird
there is a coastal bird of some
description
perched up nearby I cannot see it
its call is a precision needle
compared to the town's rough traffic
and the stark gulls' panic
it is lancet thin and piercing the
evening sky
in its skin of orange
but I cannot see the bird
only a lone chimneystack can
although
we can all hear it
we can feel it like the the porpoise
feels the sea
crying mee-e mee-e mee-e
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