a poem by Robert Beveridge

There were two birds lying

in the puddle by the side of the road.

They’d been there for days.

One’s legs were entwined

in barbed wire; the other

seemed to be unhindered.

Driving by, one arm

around you on the way home

from a movie

We pass that puddle

I look at them lying there

and wonder

How far the bird had to fly

with barbed wire on its feet

before coming to rest.

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