Among the Feathers and Pigeon Shit

 
you will find a love
that hovers

on the edge of air.
A ritual

familiar
as a young man’s

one night stand;
no regrets.

A strutting walk
and cocky movement

of head
before winging away.

 

 
A fond memory – Jeanne Macdonald

I remember sitting in the bar with Julia and others to choose the title for an anthology to be published by those taking the first MA Writing Poetry. There were eleven of us – hence the title – First Eleven. Her shared enthusiasm and sense of humour an inspiration to us all.

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