by David Chorlton
A cloudy desert day. The city smiles.
Slow rain falling. Circles of light on the pond.
The same sad news
drop by drop
and no umbrella for protection
against reports from far away.
It’s numbers day
by smoking day with innocence
as no defence, a conflict over who belongs
and who doesn’t. It’s different
with birds,
the ones who stray
out of their range are most sought after
like the Streak-backed Orioles
come north to the water reclamation park.
They don’t need papers.
No visas. Just an orange
cut in half
for easy feeding. Welcome
bright birds. No borders in the air.
The newscast doesn’t reach
to where they are. They leave a question
hanging:
are there orioles
in the Middle East? Has beauty ever been
a broker between the sides
of an old argument? One side does this, the other
does that.
They keep doing what they know
to do. Every answer comes
in kind. There must be a field guide
for cruelty. It must be disguised
as a holy book.
The same sad news
drop by drop
and no umbrella for protection
against reports from far away.
It’s numbers day
by smoking day with innocence
as no defence, a conflict over who belongs
and who doesn’t. It’s different
with birds,
the ones who stray
out of their range are most sought after
like the Streak-backed Orioles
come north to the water reclamation park.
They don’t need papers.
No visas. Just an orange
cut in half
for easy feeding. Welcome
bright birds. No borders in the air.
The newscast doesn’t reach
to where they are. They leave a question
hanging:
are there orioles
in the Middle East? Has beauty ever been
a broker between the sides
of an old argument? One side does this, the other
does that.
They keep doing what they know
to do. Every answer comes
in kind. There must be a field guide
for cruelty. It must be disguised
as a holy book.