Admiring the brightly coloured
the blackbird warbling from the dense knot of thorn,
I see only sharp connections
amongst my drab flora, hypodermics, broken glass,
surreptitiously spreading links of barbed wire
to be tripped up over
again and for never, ever
amen-onwards, until the cupboard is bare.
I am unable to expect the unexpected
because it isn’t yet baked,
always is furniture,
might sometimes be vagrant.
It is shaped by patterns, you see,
the melody, brush stroke, latent sleeping rhythm
snuggling away down there, together,
waiting to hatch.
A clutch of drawn shadows
echoing the ignition
of blackbird wings
in a slowly lost forest.
It’s how it sits close to the bone,
Do you see me?
Can you hear my colours?
Author bio: J.S.Watts lives and writes in the flatlands of East Anglia. Her poetry, short fiction and reviews are published in a variety of magazines and publications in Britain, Canada, Australia and the States including: Ascent Aspirations, Envoi, The Journal, Polluto and The Recusant. Her debut poetry collection "Cats and Other Myths" is published by Lapwing Publications. For further details see JS Watts