Gill McEvoy

Goldcrest                                                             

It lay in your palm,

a folded question-mark,

its golden head stripe a small

frown troubling its mind.

You said it was like holding

a mouthful of air,

a fraction of cloud.

When we buried it

we were amazed how stiff

a tiny thing of feathers

could become.

"Goldcrest" is taken from Uncertain Days (2006: Happenstance, UK)