Soul-Bird
When I see you walk, stiff-legged, over
the shingle, I wonder whose child you are,
which widow waits for you, cursing the water.
You spar and snatch for lukewarm chips,
your bright bill jabbing vehemently, red-tipped,
as if you’d dipped it in a bloody sauce.
Your breast is white and, catching light, it’s lustrous,
as ghosts are said to be under the moon.
You lift yourself on air and sit on waves,
undrownable, unsettled as a witch.
They say your feathers know when storms are coming,
bringing new fellows to increase your number.
You’re restless so won’t let the others sleep.
All night, your cries resound across the harbour,
with inarticulate, relentless anger.
Kitty Coles lives in Surrey. She is one of the two winners of the Indigo Dreams Pamphlet Prize 2016 and her debut pamphlet is Seal Wife. Website: www.kittyrcoles.com