I saw birds in large groups rallied against the rain
as if they had been told to stand there, segregated
like lines at the airport. A screech of gulls, a muster of crows
and tucked behind a dune, a contradiction
of sandpipers. I scrambled down the bank, disturbing a wisp
of snipe which scuttled off towards the ocean past the
cormorants drying their wings on the rocks. Larks twittered
in exaltation and, when I turned, all the birds were looking at me.
A large goose waddled up and spoke: ‘What’s the collective noun
for humans then?’ A pause, then they all started laughing, flapping,
filling the sky. I sat down on the grass. ‘A virus,’ I said
and the wind set off to spread the word.
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Ewan is the Artistic Director of DHK. A charity that puts artists, clowns, and musicians in children’s hospital wards. He lives in Denmark, which is much smaller and flatter than everyone thinks. For the last two years he has been mentored by Caroline Bird, which has been a stunning ride down the rabbit hole. His poems have just been accepted for Under The Radar and Prole.
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