John Kitchen

April Heron

slow heavy beat-steady wings steely its largeness descends

a curl of neck dips otherwise it’s still

silent on bamboo legs eyes water-watching both sides together until a slow bend

one web-foot lifts is placed then the other as though on mud but our fishless pond throbs

with newly emerged tadpoles feasting

on tapioca sacs the bird’s disappointed or disturbed into unlikely flight

Beyond you

beyond the pane stretch branches the overgrown apple tree laden with untamed sour-faced hardness

a constant breeze bounces the crown a tree within a tree pulsates greenery & fruit cable roots wrangle under lawn under patio forcing a way through the packed clay beneath the cottage weapons-grade clusters of bramleys reach that bit further soon to be close enough to bang on glass to drop on the carpet like mini-

monster eggs the offensive begun the fight back here and I wonder if I should wake you or is it all too late

e d g e

horizon stretches across fenland flats salt water saturate dry cracked or the treachery of a tidal creek’ s fill up your elemental welcome package

black skeins of wildfowl a rise of vapour-trail memories of Raff bombing practice aerial flash & thud remote disquiet & a twelve-bore

polished ditch mud or algae stain & cracks clagged heavyslip wellies ozone wingland edgeland this not quite sea that too soon may be