fly on a peeling sill
every surface
potential edge of the world
eyes filled with light
food wooed
pile of dog mush
bit of cheddar
asparagus spear
all the same to it
frustrated now
thwarted by panes
bouncing against glass
electric shock of energy
this house holds prisoner
condemns
contralto of dying desperate wings
rising in the window well
Aida on the phonograph.
***
BY NEIL BROSNAN
