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Pete Crompton

The Avian

Dearest Avian

By the roadside ruffled
fluffy shapes,
animals and garden gates
and from soil moist
knees hoist green
imagination vast
my imaginary friend
I am indestructible
Under mothers wing
And questioning the sky above
Feel a quickening shove
Toward perch end and schooldays
celebrate childhood
take creosote an aromatic companion
In primary fields
Take a clock tick, slow-worm
make shapes from vapour trails
The best way to view clouds
Is on your back.
Yet such a heavy sack
Our reward for ageing
Carried on steel wing
An amazing escape
An adult thing to fly
Yet Alas!, dear Avian,
a theory, wright
an attempt never touching
The pure and simple
The innocent
child years

© P Crompton 4-10-2007
Thu, 4 Oct 2007 12:59 am
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