24TH JANUARY - 4.14 PM
Driving home, westward. Fast-fading light.
Remnants of cloud in a pale, violet sky.
Rows of birds sit, in tree after tree, left and right,
all facing the sunset, silhouetted by
the low, red disc. But, in still, chill air,
beyond and above them, coming out of the sun,
a buzzard approaches. This is why they stare
westward and in unison.
As our years roll geometrically by
and the lingering pink in the Western sky
begins to extinguish, our gaze will rise;
we shall stare at our fate in such low-sunned skies.
Trevor Hewett is an Englishman who lives and
writes in his native Cornwall. Published widely in the UK and internationally,
he has a short collection of work - 'The Patchwork Woman' - available
from Mockfrog Design Press, Australia.
trevor_hewett@hotmail.com
(This poem was previously published by Mockfrog Press, Australia - 2000)
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