MOMENT
The street.
Morning.
Potential.
A bird lands on the fuchsia bush.
A black cat strolls.
A man is knocking
at the red door opposite.
Elsewhere, dusty roadsides
are exploding at vehicles.
Someone calls out something
we can't quite hear.
The bird flutters
like a mad heart
* Sheila Hamilton is a poet and occasional reviewer. She lives with her family, which includes cats, on the Wirral.
