in the middle of april that year spring never came
when the crows had to put back all the sticks where they’d found them
and the trees never bothered unpacking
that year she was minding her own up by superdrug
you know where they drink diamond ice and scatter their needles
all over like christmas trees
when suddenly and out of utter nowhere
the anxiety which had been gnawing away at the back of her heart
for about forever and even longer
came busting up through bone flesh sinew
slicing through the ancient coat she walked the dog in
unapologetic vitriolic spewing into light of day
she knelt on the paved area made sticky from various spillages
and in amongst the cigarette ends and the careless cartons
she put her hand behind to touch :
Oh the nub of new wings bursting
shafts as sharp as plastic, feathers wet from birth
thrusting opening screaming in the broad daylight
she wanted to sit to take it in
but the benches were full
with everyone diagonal over two seats and shouting
so she took it home with her
and all the way she practised furling and unfurling
it had been quite the day
that day in the middle of april
the year that spring never came