Truce on the Terrace

A red light starboard.
Two white ones on the ailerons.
Headed north for take-off
Then banking to take on an easterly course.
Moscow? Vienna? Istanbul?

They flash brightly,
Not competing with the light of lights
But complementing it
As it ceases slowly in the west,
Spreading a red backdrop to the aeroplanes.

The next one’s up.
More flashing lights.
This one is bigger
And therefore somewhat louder.
It, too, veers right and rumbles briefly overhead.

The noise vanishes
Unlike the blackbirds’ evening call.
One sits atop our terrace fence,
And one down there,
Singing from the silent roof

Of the abandoned house.
We never got on well.
Now they have gone.
I don’t know where – nobody knows, or says.
Tonight, I wish them well.

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This entry was posted in Kallis Poems and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Truce on the Terrace

  1. hjs says:

    Great how the blackbirds act as intermediaries in this truce – and how the anonymous departing airplanes lead over to the personal theme of people who enter and depart from our lives.

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