We arrive from the North,
welcomed by weeping trees
and rivers of fire.
You tried to subdue us, long ago,
with words built to smooth
crude triangulations into breathy
background sighs that arc
across a supine horizon.
But, we remain unapologetic
for the force of our fervour.
She swells to greet
the painful caress
of a thousand wingtips.
Greedily, we feast on the air,
dancing a dance governed more
by mathematics than love.
A swirling ink blot swathe,
draped across the rose water sky.
Our slow hypnotic throb
belies the frenzy
of our avian chemistry.
Together we are a battle cry,
a bawdy song, a prayer;
an avalanche of feathers
locked in free fall.

Born in Wales and currently residing at the outer limits of the Northern Line, Marie-Françoise de Saint-Quirin is a poet and writer of children’s fiction. Her work has previously appeared in Reach Poetry magazine.