of hooded teens
just hangin' out with friends,
two fingers raised in defiance
of wedding guests
parade across the lawn
in their fascinators, white ties
a sad goodbye,
the flutter of passports,
tickets and tissues – they’re ready
of skin on wood;
feathers cover the crease.
The batsman leaves the field, out for
of grey-haired men
in business suits and scarves,
full of chirks and squawks about stocks
the square where the grey-haired
old woman sleeps with her bundle
on his tunic
marks the end of the shift.
He walks home singing and swinging
The first line of each of these cinquains is a collective noun
for that type of bird.
If you have any comments on these poems, Jan Harris would be
pleased to hear from you.