Penelopeanne Dalgleish
Dinosaurs
I
In the vast barn of the old Victoria coach station,
A child drank grey soup from a thermos flask.
The air was solid with fumes and wheeling flights of pigeons.
II
That afternoon, at the Natural History Museum,
Dad showed me a grey archeopterix
That had flown slap into a slab of mud and turned to stone.
III
Slap bang like the daft pigeon that flew into my window.
It bounced down the roof to Dad, who made it
Into a good pie - one of the few meals I remember.
IV
I drop it a chip from the bag the teenager sold me.
“Coo coo coo?” “I’m surviving, thanks, and you?”
Slate grey, head to one side; “You and me both, chum. Surviving.”
Page(s) 16
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