After quartering now barren seas
They fly inland, high and silent.
Target acquired (a local park)
They stuka down into sharp
Edged trees, slash aside leaves,
Tip nests, awe mothers into
Frozen pebbles as they scoop
Down shrieking chicks: gorged
They curve back out again,
Wind-dancers reduced to
Desperate scavenging who’d
Peck each other blind for some
Drunk’s spilled fish and chips.
Kevin Patrick McCann
Illustration Nick Victor