Squirrel

Frozen by fear and car headlights,
You come to depend upon me,
Interfere with my plans. You have rights:
I cannot callously drive over you.

I must move you, it seems, bodily.
Half-vexed, half-amused, I leave my car,
Though the lane is lonely
And time pressing.

Your heart beats under my hand:
Your warmth surprises, reminds me
Of kittens and piglets and days on the land.
Apologising, I place you on a wall.

Suddenly, you find life. Your back arches,
Then you vanish into dusk.
For a moment, my city self pauses,
Envying the wild. All that evening,
Your heart beats on, under my hand.

©Copyright Pauline Kirk

After Today's News

After today's news, everything is sharper,
Brighter, more beautiful.
There are daffodils opening in my mind.
Their leaves sting my eyes.

Ahead, lovers are standing on a bridge.
I notice how they move, the gesture
Of her hand. Roofed with night,
the abbey stalks the moon.

I should miss such things.
I had grown used to this world's joy,
But now my sight is amazed, hurts
With the loveliness of life.

Was this how it felt, Milton?
The surprise, not quite believing,
Seeing everything with new eyes,
Knowing you might be losing the old?

©Copyright Pauline Kirk