The Great Auk – New Poem 1st draft
The Great Auk
You’ve gone hunting,
venturing to the outer edges of Reykjavik
where we haven’t wandered before.
My washing is making calming noises in the machine,
and I’m enjoying leaning back against warm, solid walls.
It’s something I haven’t done in a while and
I have nowhere else to be except here.
Nobody, but you, had asked about the flightless,
five kilo bird, and you were so excited when you heard
it hadn’t been lost in the flood. It was beautiful
to see you smile until your eyes watered.
I take my time, folding my clothes,
making sure the seams on the sleeves
of my t-shirt meet together.
They are warm and smell like home
Upstairs, there is a typewriter.
I desperately want to write you a note,
congratulating you on getting this far,
but the ribbon is all wreaked. Children,
standing all forlorn with inky fingertips
are the most probable suspects.
You come back, ill from too many chilli rice crackers
but triumphant. The hunt was successful
and you have photographs.