My First Bird
By Gerard Walsh
The first time I saw you Kestrel on a telephone wire you had juvenile plumage everyone else was gone south. We caught you in a bal-chatri, now you perch on my couch and we binge watch movies or get geared up to walk forest and field looking for targets, until you explode from my fist and the world becomes yours again. You flutter on the cusp of a pocket, then fold and tuck for thrust as I watch. Bone-beaked and thin skulled you are clinker built, like the gunnel of a longship. As you drop in a stoop your feathers saw-toothed, tapering to nothingness, you tilt, then I know there is a chance that you may not come back again the choice is always yours. You rise in an updraught without a flap, swing back in an arc gifted raptor gaining with every wing pump to stun our prey with a clenched foot.
Gerard Walsh
Gerard Walsh lives in Ovidstown, co, Kildare, with his partner, children, cats and dogs. He studied Arts as a mature student and attended Aberystwyth Wales to qualify as a Librarian. He tried that for a few years then switched to part-time work in a library. Spending time with family and developing some hobbies, he attempted poetry in 2019 when he picked up a copy
of writers forum. He has had poems published there and in Boyne berries magazine. He has recently started a flower farm called real blooming flowers and enjoys spending hours potting, pinching out, digging, cutting and arranging.
Photo credit: Jeremy Hynes
Apricot Press 