Time passes and life stirs in the mud.
Her body lifts. An arm, a leg; they squelch back into place;
A bright eye bobs from a blackbird’s nest, sucked into its socket.
Blood raises like a curtain; and swerves back to the pump.
She flaps uncertainly.
And reaches for the sun once more.
‘I love you!’ she cries.
And every window opens as she goes by.
They stare at her from shops and homes and buses.
Past trees and granite soldiers,
And grimy paper swirling in the wind,
She loops and circles.
New love giving new life.
‘I love you! I love you! she cries once more.
And, as if by some unrealistic miracle, he springs out of nowhere, catches her and says, “I’m not entirely indifferent to you myself”.
I wrote this in response to the suggestions I had for I love you! which I posted on Saturday. The last line is by Peter Wells at Counting Ducks
Picture via Creative Commons, courtesy of https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2357/2511306490_3173996d85_b.