Ringed
Her feet snagged in a cleverly-placed net
my sister waits for him to untangle her,
to hold her head still between thick fingers,
feather ruff ticking in each rapid breath,
her eyes black and bright, body eclipsed
by the size of him, nothing she can do
to escape. He takes the measure of her,
splays wings with ruler, pliers a metal ring
shut on her thin limb, blows chest feathers
apart, testing tender fluff for fat reserves,
slots her headfirst in a film can, trembling
tail upended, to pop her on the scales.
He smooths her down for a photo, knowing
if he lets her go, she will be trapped again.
Lesley Curwen is a poet, broadcaster and sailor from Plymouth. Her pamphlet Rescue Lines is published by Hedgehog and an eco-chapbook, Sticky with Miles by Dreich. Her poems have been published by Dust, Bad Lilies, Broken Sleep, Atrium, Spelt, Black Bough and East Ridge Review.