Go away. All that’s over.
No more fluttering, squirming, crawling, running.
I’ve achieved stillness, clarity.
Since the tide gave up this one rock
And I’m the only point to reckon by
Many of you have taken me for a sign.
Stop. Stay on the deep.
Wing back down the round sleep of waters.
Deceive them, tell them it never ends.
Give me peace.

But the speech of skulls is strange to birds.
Weary, eager for crumbs and Noah’s praise,
The dove snapped half the glittering twig
Curling green in the eye socket,
Clutched it, flew.

Michael Donaghy


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