Sunday, 18 September 2011

Poem for another festival

More views of - or at - Cambridge Film Festival 2011
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


18 September 2011

Awake earlier than I should like, but not ready to finish my comments on Guillermo del Toro's latest 'work', I shall post another of my poems, written for a competition at The Proms run by Radio 3's 'cabaret of the word', The Verb.

I think that it will be clear enough what it's about, but, if not, I can provide explanation later:



Hedwig in the air


Hedwig’s dead, killed outright in her cage –
Not fleeing from the deathly curse,
Or up, o’erseeing the under-age
Potter boy, whose mind she’d sought to nurse.


Birds – maybe she, too – brought first tidings
Of magic, of spells, of the castle
Reached by express from secret sidings:
A place to talk for real in Parsel-


Tongue, to know a first happy Christmas.
She flew with greetings then, and maybe
Saw her death as sure as Icarus,
Or the kings in that heav’n-sent baby –


An epiphany on wings, soft, still
As angels’ singing, this owl they kill.



Copyright © Belston Night Works 2011

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