These swallows make such a racket when
the gallows creak at noon. Can you ever

remember a more glorious sound? We’re
in this together; arms locked and loaded

when the barges pass and the gunpowder
pops. There’s only ever one crow beside us

when we meet like this and I’m grateful
for your candour. The moment you

stopped craning your neck and listening,
I came to life; watch me fly, dear boy.