Arts and Media School Islington, London, 2020
The bird ceased to be articulate
Language that we did not understand
Then silence.
Exquisite eyes wide with astonishment.
Sunlight glowed like a rose.
How beautiful they were,
How extraordinarily dark.
Nervously this way and that,
The bird fluttered its wings.
Anything was possible.
A sign of friendliness,
A frightening grimace.
The bird stopped.
Flickered.
A trembling hand.