i.m. Seamus Heaney
so, by the time I met him he was a kingfisher
dawn was his straw time
and a tall mooring pole at the marina
like a slightly blunted pencil, the kind
with an eraser on the end
his favourite perch
so, with all the sleeping boats holding their course
he trilled a tune
cursive rings on the cross-hatched water
and just like that he turned into the rising sun
and was gone
Editor’s Note: In this poem, allegory creates a relationship between a bird and a mourned poet, and it is through the kingfisher’s story that the reader understands the fleeting nature of life.
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