SCHOOL MASSACRE

Something grey something fast
crashes shivering past my eye
A seagull, babe young
fusses about the bins
like grandmothers fuss over
afternoon tea, biscuits, and grandsons

One leg is gone, completely and though
his wings are spread in a grand gesture
they prove useless in my tight alley
so close to earth, still,
instinctual, they flutter

flutter

flap

pause

he is thinking

he is thinking about his options as
his mother looks down from the roof
as only mothers can and ignores his cries

Nature, I think,
folding my newspaper carefully on my knee,
the headline reading:

‘SCHOOL MASSACRE, OVER 130 CHILDREN DEAD’

Nature can be very cruel