MONDAY 6th APRIL 2009.

The shoals follow tail to tail
Beneath the new blue seascape of the sky;
Mobile hung from heights
Beyond on slender rain stems of string
And dazzling as they spin in
Slow rotating motion; nudging one
Another as if refueling the future
With their cargoes before disappearing
Past the skyline’s arc.

And queuing, scatter like
Behind them, tinged in sunlight, come
The young; whispering their
Positions to the next and giggling in the
Brilliant contrast of the endless
Untouchable colour of their element;
Sifting air and passing it’s
Vitality along to any lucky enough
To gaze up and gather it;

For there is a face, and here is a
Place for its framing for all the old ladies
And those able to trace and make
Names up, and underneath propellers
And engines weave their
Machines in and out of a profile’s mouth
And announce their arrival to the
Rest of humanity stirring in the land of
Perfect ignorance.