The Sad Delusions of Love
For birds, real estate is everything,
that and grooming, of course.
But then, the two frequently go together;
Good feathers so often make for the best houses
He’d found the perfect situation;
wonderful views, just off the flyway,
a ledge that extended improbably outwards
like a beak from the face of the cliff.
Concave in profile, a shallow groove,
that held his body like a spoon,
Lead-lined, with space enough for two
and the eggs wouldn’t roll off.
Head to head and groovy, they preened, .
Locked beaks, they churred, they chuckled,
But passion always ignores the detail,
And the devil lurks in the detail
Water problems; it wasn’t so much rising damp
as a tumbling torrent. One summer storm
and nest, eggs, chicks the lot would be in the sea.
But they were in love, and love is always in denial