Artwork by Lauren Bickerdike
Footnote to a Force Field
It’s as if the high-voltage cables scythe a sward
of sky. The harvest includes sparrows,
robins, blackbirds, finches, wagtails, thrushes –
young fliers from the hole in the wall,
the ivy overhang, the low bush, the lady
of the forest, the larch and beech trees spread
in wild abundance around Ballydonlon.
No sense, you say, in mourning those that die.
Aren’t they nature’s many? Surely even
a sorry pragmatist, if he is to live comfortably,
must put his need of heat and light
in nature’s way? So the ravener behind your eye
follows the loop of the singing cables
while stiffened under your feet the fledglings lie.
- Patrick Deeley