Gillian Stoneham
Green Parrots
Every evening, heralded by the chatter
of sky gossip,
they crowd the air,
sweep in, swoop down and come to roost
in the familiarity of high stone places,
fetching their long tails home,
emerald against our fading sky.
So suddenly they seem at rest,
as if by some miracle changed from migrants
to peaceful settlers.
And every evening I watch them
so confidently flying, so demurely settling,
and without wishing it, I long for home
although no longer knowing
where home is.
Page(s) 22
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