_
by now
I have learned
that all things portend
but then
when we fought each other down
by day and made it up
by night
i did not know
the sloop sailed
hard by the ochre cliffs
the waves slapping like wet sheets
on the stony shore
a gull shrieked
riding our spill
from the falcon’s nest
a feathered missile hurtled
air to air
spur and talon demolished
the gliding wings
now
it is an omen.
Deya, 1980’s
Patrick Meadows 1934 – 2017.