Peter Gruffydd
man in the street
Rain traced dark cornices
As martins rolled and poised
In their spattered element,
Flown boats yet in command
Of air's tidal tug, while above
Swifts creamed the tree-top gnats,
Predators of a different stratum.
Silence, in wet noon's shade
Of fleeing shower, sealed
The curving bird's elation.
As I stared at their barics,
Aero or aquatic, the dull street
Took off in lacing motion
Of hurling pied martins,
Then elements split as a man
Squealed by in car, dissonance
Of harmony of sky, wing and rain,
The rough questioner of bird-flight.
Page(s) 48
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