Address to my Feathered Friend
When growing up in Banagher, the Willie Wagtail was one of my favourite birds. They nested regular in our garden and yard, and their nervous flittering about (a drop of the devils blood was on their tail according to a folklore story of my mothers) is unmissable to birdwatchers.
Little bird, upon my windowsill…
I watch your comings and goings from day to day
Why is it, that when I draw near,
You suddenly take flight and fly away?
For I have nothing but friendship to give
I, though human, understand your plight.
I know that you too were meant to live…
But I cannot understand your fright.
Is it because of the cruelty of my fellow man
Against you and yours again and again?
Well if it is, there is little I can say
Bar I am not one of those cruel wicked men.
Alas my friend, or so it seems to me,
A brief glimpse of each other through a window is as close as we can ever be.