Treasure Island

Mark Heathcote

(22/03/66 / Manchester)

Does the hummingbird know best?


There’s a banquet table
So big, and so, high
It leaves us mindful
…That the floor is a pigsty.
Hummingbird on the wind
Flutter; just suspend…
Note not flowers pinned.
Why, now then descend?
Their roots are clay-bound
You’re caught in the dream
That leaves hearts dumfound.
“We can only esteem”…
“You believe the flower
Is heavenly, and why not.
When its milky chowder
Propels you; slingshot”…
Feeds your every fibre!

Submitted: Monday, July 29, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, July 30, 2013

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