You can walk past one if quiet enough
and even then it will only be a hand-glider
throw out of a tree. The walnut brown wings
stretching out into the air. There is no urgency
in its flow. A rough sort of flier, can be harassed
by the corvids. Misunderstood by gamekeepers
and such like. It is library gentle all day, just
pottering about, wearing its baggy trousers. Running
like a chicken after scurrying creatures.
Conker feathered, herring silver under each wing
this bird is not a swimmer of the sky but
more a heavy wagon plod. Occasionally they will
go to the clouds, circle and nasal shout at the land
below. Before perching as a neighbour in a block
of flats watching the passing people go by down below.
By Gareth Culshaw
Gareth lives in North Wales. He loves the outdoors especially Snowdonia. He is published in various magazines across the U.K. Visit his website here.