To be able to look into a pair of eyes
and see so many people and memories within them,
living on through those eyes
I realise they are not black but a careful brown,
sweeping just out of grasp
and into the air.
Wings kick up wood chips.
Feathers skim branches dolce
your wooden crown severs offshoots,
never quite catching them.
You’re the only one here though.
The priceless sight of your kind flying as one
the colour of foam dancing atop coffee and a place to stay
the only one in Wales, Europe, captivity altogether even.
From a mezzanine floor I gaze out
through the interstices of light moss on a window
where the stark clouds illuminate where I can find you.
I check my phone and I am brought back to society
I was saved for too long and now the bliss ceases all too suddenly
I can no longer prove you were there
you just were.