Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

        Miles of pathways, acres of grass,
        Tons of artificial boulders,
        Small saharas closed against
        Camel, bison, antelope,
Which pass and shrug their shoulders, fenced from hope.

        But like Nature animals exist
        Too large to keep in single view,
        Some too small for us to see
        At all, ambivalent, distinct,
As well as the list, two out of three, extinct.

        Wandering through the endless zoo —
        Cats in their dens intently pace,
        Elephants bellowing and thumping,
        Monkeys constantly at war —
We guessed his impassive face hid something more.

        Beside a pool, atop a shelf
        Of rock, he balanced full-fledged in grey
        As if in a ratty cutaway coat,
        One knee bent, a classic pose,
Self-absorbed, blasé, remote? He knows.

        Weighty, broad, and untoward
        His bill lay heavy on his vest,
        But while we watched, he blinked at us
        And turned away, completely dumb,
Bored by the rest, the birds, and us, who come,

        Staring fixedly in concentration,
        For he has made his choice: to be
        Alone in the grip of his disease,
        A final renunciation of
Imagination, fleeing, pleasing, love;

        He longs to wing but lacks a wing
        Because his cage is far too small
        To compass the swoop of his descent.
        Still the sparrows, numberless, fly
And sing to call for his ascent of the sky.