So my flat isn't perfect, but it does have an awesome view of the crags from the living room, and this time of the morning there are dozens of gulls flying around the buildings, screeching away. It's been a while since I've mentioned birds, and I'd hate to think I was becoming lax in my duties.
Crags
And now I am a jackdaw perched
on a rock above the city,
bunnyhopping towards the cliff face.
I hoke at the wet stone,
shake the fine rain from my feathers,
and already the memory of being human
is slipping away in runnels.
The alleys, the highrises, the castle
grow abstract with each
rapid heartbeat. The river meets
the sea and the wind
pushes me softly,
suddenly over the edge and I open
my different mouth and I open
my different arms.
Til tomorrow,
Dave.
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