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from the
field book
by
Carol Thistlethwaite
Celebrating Earth Day, First Day of Spring, World Poetry Day and World Forestry Day
sanderlings
on the beach - faded
waders:
six weeks of courtship's colour,
bonding, mating, rearing - done
and gone. Now their feathers wear the Arctic wind,
colours pushed to spangled greys,
snow bellies, match-stalk legs
strike out at break-neck speed,
their high-cute factor,
hard as quartz,
their sooty legs, strong as jet,
their wave-chase games, ruthless as a tungsten beak,
each a tundra surface melt,
each a survivor, full of pretty flowers
with permafrost beneath
Rossall Point, 27th Sept 2007
Redshank at St Annes
sun softens
sinking in surrender
to a wide awaiting sea,
as redshank ripple rings,
orange legs glisten,
give themselves to be
translucent,
beaks flick briny drops,
toss concentric dance,
parting beaks
lunge the estuary for more,
reflections,
redshank above
redshank below
near perfect symmetry,
movement, rhythm,
meltdown,
pouring peach pink gold,
tide withdraws,
follows fallen star,
silvered afterglow,
redshank silhouettes
secret witnesses,
feed on
Merlin
when flocks flutter,
stutter the
sky,
you know she's there,
when grass gasps,
crouching unease,
you know she's somewhere there.
she holds your breath
as you scan the scene
for a dot in the sun,
a pause on a post,
talons clasp the beat of a heart,
future and past are scratched on an eye,
as feather and bone shake,
evaporate
kingfisher
I walk this stretch
hoping for a gift
of turquoise breeze,
a lustrous fan full of wildness,
worth more than polished amber,
more than enamelled sky,
for the thrill of its elusiveness,
its independent streak,
known only to itself
when it will show. Hide.
Show itself again,
pulsing minnow-flash to feathers,
and always maintaining its wonder-at-me distance,
only revealing its shyest-best,
in case I value it less
for the close-up stench
of fish-gut
in its breath.
Green Woodpecker
She feeds on the forest
floor,
a dusty old lady in faded green frock.
But when she senses a presence -
she flies -
like a cabinet unfolding,
inside bright as yesterday,
and her laugh
so clear,
still here, today
6th July 2007, Black Coppice
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
The rights of Carol Thistlethwaite to be identified as the author have been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and patents act 1988
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