Teases two willow branches
Into curving ribs,
Mixes flour with water and,
Tongue protruding, glues
A layer of windfall feathers
Onto each,
Adds more that overlap
Like roof-tiles
Growing to a point,
Makes himself new wings,
Straps them on
Then kneels, fingers
Interlacing reverently,
Tastes cool air
As he fountains
Above the tree- tops,
Hears the faint horizon
Rippling,
Sings
“If you’re happy
And you know it…”
Before his patient carer
Wheels him through
To the community garden
Then pops off to see about tea.
Kevin Patrick McCann
Illustration Nick Victor