The Taxidermist

He likes his wildlife
stuffed and mantled
Glory seconds
like frozen food

He deconstructs the world
works alone in used parts
faint smell of dead things
even in the deep freeze,
it's unmistakable

When he's done crying
he resurrects
only what you see
even to the flick of head feathers
the glint in an eagle's eye

They will never move again
never feel the rush of air
under wing, scent of a mate
the manic verb hunger

Slow, patient, quill by quill
He is a lover of silk
the mathematics of form
a reader of articulations

The evidence of his art
proud clean birds
perfect eyes and stance
I feel him

up under my skin
with Plaster-of-Paris fingers
He sweats through my pores
quick eyes searcn.

His mind asks
how to freeze that flawless
rhythm of biology
the colour of lived chemistry

I came here to learn about form
nine flight feathers
five secondary feathers
four types of wings-

but find motive more
compelling.
What it is to gut
the object of one's affection.

Carmel Williams 2006
Parkholme

Birds my fascination

Since I was a child
my fascination persists
watching, observing, enjoying
I love birds of all kinds
gentle ones, colourful
martial ones, hunters
all are caring creatures of the universe.
The magic craftmen of nests
perfect builders of dwellings
sophisticated fortresses

birds in my garden
lighting up my life
fascination holds me
to see them in line
flying above
and down in my roof
doves all making love
I am sad only
because their endangeredhabitat
the bird needs their trees
they need their space
I draw them with love
trying to catch a flight.

Anonymous
Age 74
Plympton Park

waking....

waking…..

was that you I heard in the night calling me

lulling me back to sleep?

was that your breath from the window

brushing my cheek and resting on my lips?

was that your body hiding in the shadows

wrapping your softness around me?

was that you I saw setting

lighting up the sky for all to see?

was that your sweet voice I heard on waking

singing a beautiful bird song?

Cathy Frawley