There is a leaning tree with two
remaining red apples hanging
side by side like a pair of testicles.

Just below is a branch, hosting
a pegged out clothes line where
occasionally our robin perches.

Sometimes, Cyriol, the vocal blind
she'ep butts ihe trunk by accident
and prematurely sheds its foliage.

She’s last to the manger at night,
chick- hens are the other side of
the pen, so she has no role models.

Late sun up and a superfluous
rooster makes the morning as
indistinguishable as evening.

Adding to all of that, she’s black,
and ostracised by the local white
white community..

First knell of the village bell is a
six am, she tunes into the sound
waves like a homing pigeon. then


Baa Baa ---------------------