The Sorrowful Magpie, poems by Kevin Cowdall
Kevin Cowdall was born in Liverpool, England. He has had over 200 poems published in magazines, journals and anthologies in the UK, Ireland, across Europe, and in Australia, Hong Kong, India, Canada, and the USA, and broadcast on BBC Radio. He has previously released three collections; ‘The Reflective Image’, ‘Monochrome Leaves’ and ‘A Walk in the Park’. His 2016 retrospective collection, ‘Assorted Bric-a-brac’ (bringing together the best from these collections with a selection of more recent poems), has had excellent reviews and is available in paperback and as an e-book on Amazon. Kevin’s novella, ‘Paper Gods and Iron Men’, is also available in paperback and as an e-book on Amazon.
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The Sorrowful Magpie
A single magpie stands
alone on a secluded
stretch of common
seldom frequented
by strolling humans
or other foraging creatures.
It moves in fretful hops
across the parched grass,
long tail bobbing,
stopping time and again
to utter a raucous chatter,
tilting its head expectantly,
awaiting a response –
but none answer the call,
no others deign to come . . .
The Tentative Fawn
Standing on legs which seem
barely able to support its weight;
a fragile thing, exposed, defenceless.
It trembles with an intrinsic gait
and takes a first, tentative, step,
with a determination quite innate.
Moving as if testing its ground,
on in to an undetermined world
and untold dangers all around.
Senses growing ever more aware,
twitching now at the slightest sound,
it wavers on the verge of discovery.
The Contemplative Crab
It stands in
contemplative stillness,
barely discernible
amongst the shadows
of a shallow pool amid
the scattering of rocks.
Soon the incoming tide
will disturb the tranquillity,
overwhelming its sanctuary,
forcing it to stand its ground
against the onslaught
or retreat to a safer haven.
I too, must seek refuge;
the waves are already
rolling across the sand
to lap at the nearest rocks.
But I am unwilling to leave,
and linger for a while longer.
I drag myself away as
the waves sweep in,
engulfing the place where I
had stood only moments ago.
I am content and stand
in contemplative stillness.
© Kevin Cowdall