Sample poem from ‘Out of the Ordinary’

Bittern at Leighton Moss

The world is turned to lead
By some strange alchemy transformed,
All is now base metal.
Water is silver, fields iron, reeds bronze,
Driftwood gripped in metal claws,
Tiny birds picked out in bas relief.

A great golden bird
Weighed down by its glittering plumage, flies
Slow and low over its own reflection.
Its single wing beat the only thing
Moving in the dead landscape.

Dead silence, dead cold, dead world
Holding its breath, waiting for something
To crack,
But not yet.