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Poetry Library Southbank Centre - The Poetry Library housing the Arts Council Collection at Southbank Centre

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Mary Michaels

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The Pigeon Rope

It’s as if there are leaves rushing through the sky
ragged and dark with their points swept back
like the brown leaves blowing across the park

but when the wind lessens
they don’t come to rest
they rise
             spread out
                             swoop round
             circle down

like a rain cloud moving in low overhead

Twice they go round the big bare tree
three times they lift
                             curve out
                  and return

like a lasso being swung around
a rope singing out from a skilled hand

the seventh time round
without breaking shape
                          they move out
                                                over the ornamental lake

and circle once more in a tiny ring
precisely above the far-side edge

then drop like a spinning tornado-spout
touching earth
                    taking off
          folding over and over

                     a rolling cylinder
                     of flickering grey flames

which melts away
as they come to ground

And it’s as if I’d been holding the rope
                          swung them above me
                and brought them there

guiding
           and guided

               through the air.

Page(s) 24-25

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