<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Pigeon\u2019s Egg<\/strong><\/p>\n I walked into town asking for a sign, Well. As I crossed the closed-to-traffic strip, a parcel cradled in my arms, One man witnessed my scoop. Survivor of a Biblical rain from the sky, I wondered what my sign meant, <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Sarah Taylor-Fergusson<\/strong> writes about the personal, set against the landscapes of the North West of England. She read Fine Art at Oxford. She works as an editor for various publishing houses, and as a literary consultant. Her poems have been published in Puffin Review<\/em>, and Tincture Journal.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The Pigeon\u2019s Egg I walked into town asking for a sign, not, you understand, the way to the post office, but a portent so obvious, like the big word on the hillside: HOLLYWOOD. Well. As I crossed the closed-to-traffic strip, a parcel cradled in my arms, I caught a flash of movement […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-8114","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8114","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8114"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8114\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8117,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8114\/revisions\/8117"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8114"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8114"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8114"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nnot, you understand, the way to the post office,
\nbut a portent so obvious, like the big word on the hillside: HOLLYWOOD.<\/p>\n
\nI caught a flash of movement in the sky overhead, travelling from right to left, with speed,
\nand the next half-second, something fell to land three steps in front of me,
\non the pavement, perfectly and lightly.
\n.
\nTime stopped for the no-time that I closed the gap,
\nbent my knees, adjusted the package, reached out my right hand,
\nexpecting someone to fight me for it.<\/p>\n
\nI held it up for him and he broke his stride
\nto appraise an opened white pigeon\u2019s egg three-quarters intact.
\nA bird thief, we both said, and he walked on, leaving me to examine it.<\/p>\n
\na pigeon\u2019s nest tidying or a thieving magpie\u2019s meal, the latter, I feel,
\nbecause hidden up at one end, stuck on the inside of the empty shell
\nwas a minute very early embryo
\ntiny as an engagement ruby and just as red
\nas the thinnest lines of blood dried wire-like in the interior curve.<\/p>\n
\nthinking how well timed it was \u2013 to the second \u2013
\nin the doorway of The Royal Bank of Scotland, Chestergate.
\nBut how if it foretold returning love, it was two years late.<\/p>\n