I WENT TO THE SEA,
BUT THERE WERE NO GULLS/
FROM A LINE BY KEITH ROBERTS
I will be the magic that has gone away,
I will be the shapes that swim in oceans
where all the fish have vanished,
the shrub on the common land
that is a charcoal sketch at dawning,
the night bird that screeches when
all owls are driven from their hollows,
the leafy branch that scratches the window
when they’ve cut down all the forests,
I will be the whisper of the bees
on the sunshine breeze, the eye of newt,
the dream of ladybirds on sunflowers
the fire of toxic particles to light the sky
the ghost of wolves to howl at dark moons
the lost voice of worms, beetles and spiders
the echo of the fox in the phantom farmyard
the long silence of a world
where magic has gone away
Featured online at:
‘IT: INTERNATIONAL TIMES’ (19 December 2020)
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