The Blue Tit
The darting cobalt blue,
streak of yellow gold
swiftly passes
snatching tasty seed then –
flees to hide, green
amongst the laurel leaves
which tremble and
close in its wake.
Peeping out eye bright, he
fixes upon a nutty gem.
The seething bush
releasing a wild friend, who
like a salmon leaping
over a water fall
flies up
and sinks
and is gone
as is the morsel
vanished
to feed
a tiny form
against
the growing cold.
Begging Children at Railway Stations
She cut her first tooth on
poverty, rich with its
variations of pain,
depression
and disgrace
Her parents dead,
the last resort
with her brother
taken in
by promises
weighted
with threats.
He held her hand
gingerly, waiting for
the next train
as it discharged,
distracted,
dodging
accountability
humanity.
‘Beggars!’
the lot of them,
‘ignore them!’,
and watching
hopeless now,
fear building
desperation,
as empty
handed,
at the
mercy
of the
man
whose
mandate
each evening,
to beat bared backs,
for others
meanness.