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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519070" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Jay</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I was pegging out your lime-green dress;<br>you were hoping the last of the sun<br>might sip the last few beads of drip-dry water<br>from its lime-green hem.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I had a blister-stigmata the size of an eye<br>in the palm of my hand<br>from twisting the point of a screw<br>into the meat of the house. Those days. Those times.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The bird was crossing the gravel path<br>in the style of a rowing boat crossing dry land.<br>Struck with terror when I held it tight<br>in the gardening-gloves of humankind, we saw for ourselves</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the mouse-fur face and black moustache,<br>the squab of breastmeat under its throat,<br>the buff-brown coat and blue lapels,<br>the painted inside of its mouth,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the raw, umbilical flute of its tongue<br>sucking hard at the sky for the taste of air.<br>Setting it free, it managed no more than a butterfly stroke<br>to the shade of the unnamed tree, where we let it be.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They say now that the basis of life<br>in the form of essential carbon deposits<br>could have fallen to earth as a meteorite, or comet,<br>and that lightning strikes from banks of static</div><div style="margin:10px 0">delivered the spark that set life spinning. It's a beginning.<br>But the three-letter bird was death, death thrown in from above,<br>death as a crash-brained, bone-smashed, cross-feathered bullet,<br>so we could neither kill it nor love it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Simon+Armitage">Simon Armitage</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=519070" data-title="The Jay de Simon Armitage" data-description="I was pegging out your lime-green dress;
you were hoping the last of the sun
might sip the last few beads of drip-dry water
from its lime-green hem.

I had a blister-stigmata the size of an eye
in the palm of my hand
from twisting the point of a s..."></div>
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