(After Billy Collins – The Lesson, and a brilliant workshop by Robbie at Barmoor)
Originally the lines were much longer. Maybe they’re too short now?
BLUE
When I found blue coiled on my sofa
I uncurled her slender fingers
and took away her prized Jay’s wing,
the one with a flash of blue like the sky.
I blew on the wing
and gave it life,
like I’d seen her do
and before I had time
to leave a note
we were out
through the door
and up,
over hills
where insect mantras
rose from the heather
and bilberries
stained us purple,
towards rock pools
where we looked
down on mussels
clinging to black rock
and red anemones
with blue stinging spots
and the royal blue lobster
in his uncooked coat
and a child’s wide blue eyes
searching for fairy shrimps
and right at this point
I whispered
we’d better get back,
before you’re missed.
But when we returned
blue hardly stirred
as I put the Jay’s wing
back into her slender fingers.