‘Mallards’ by C. Murray



This is the crossroads,
this is where it is.

Black cat killed a chaffinch,
see her rust feathers

descend, feather-blown
they roll down stone steps.

and your freedom —

even the robin heralds it. Someone,
someone has put bunting up.

You are caught on the first step of your descent,
in a pause of red, of white,

in this absolute now

Mallards is © C. Murray, Image is © Salma Caller

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