Mary O’Dwyer
Fear of Birds
It’s the sudden appearance of a moving force,
Unexpected fluttering of wings;
Feathers tightly packed, yet easily removed.
It’s the powdery fluff that dust-traps my eyes
As the wings part their aerodynamic arms.
Curved beaks open when eyes see me,
As the vultures I saw at Regent’s Park Zoo –
Claws, jaws, haw-haw.
The screech of impending death.
Clumps of fresh meat strung on trees.
Dumb pigeons dropping shit-bombs on my head.
It’s the claustrophobic
Air aerobics
Closing me in wings.
Hawk eyes ogling down from above.
Where’s the peaceful dove,
Sleeping like a book?
If I had seen robins or wrens,
Heard the music of nightingales,
Surveying the gentle soaring
Loop-the-loops,
Jet-setting in carefree swoops,
I would love birds.