Gill McEvoy
Taking Possession.
As if someone had been modelling bird-legs
and these were the rejects,
a jangle of scrawny metal legs and feet
is thrust in my palm. They shiver
on the car seat, clink and jingle,
a tangle of brass and steel joggling about.
I nose into the driveway, slow, unsure:
it feels like trespassing.
But no-one comes to check if I'm a threat -
I stand alone on the doorstep,
sorting through the bunch, key after key,
till one at last slides in
and with slow grind and turn
unlocks the future that lurks inside.
.
.
As if someone had been modelling bird-legs
and these were the rejects,
a jangle of scrawny metal legs and feet
is thrust in my palm. They shiver
on the car seat, clink and jingle,
a tangle of brass and steel joggling about.
I nose into the driveway, slow, unsure:
it feels like trespassing.
But no-one comes to check if I'm a threat -
I stand alone on the doorstep,
sorting through the bunch, key after key,
till one at last slides in
and with slow grind and turn
unlocks the future that lurks inside.
.
.