An international online magazine that publishes Surrealist poetry in English.
Away with the Birds
Your arms are landing strips.
Gorse cracking, yellow flowers –
a child's painted sun, and forever
glanced in the glue of heat;
light stretches miles from dawn to dawn,
reflected on the Lee, a smooth breath
above rush of weir.
Ravens renege, disregard you,
yet gather rowdy
in the sky above.
You wallow in the shadows of trees,
wander through fields, by streams.
She, who else, to talk to the girl-not bird.
She, who else, to say, it's perfect, okay.
She, who else, on branches, at your feet,
in rivers comes to ask you, sister,
are you free?
Alison McCrossan lives in Cork in Ireland. Her poetry has been published in Southword, The Honest Ulsterman, Prole, Orbis, Crannog, Impossible Archetype, A New Ulster, and Poethead.