BIRDS & DIRT:
A voice on the radio in the kitchen said,
“The high-street is buoyant!”, it sounded
prepared & his cheery veneer jarred against
the ripples of the front line news making
me shiver, unable to figure which was worse.
It should be obvious, but when one could be
the seed of the other I can’t make out where
the roots of global crises lie. Some days feel
like I’m just perpetuating a loop by buying into
this rehearsed drivel.
Outside, birds graze freshly tilled fields
attending to the basics of life & a stillness in
the air attracts me to sit outside & breath in
it’s calm. The dirt vibrates, humming to it’s self
as I reach for a simple pebble of chalk created
over millions of years & pocket it to draw with later.