Zurich’s red kites of disappointment
They were not eagles – it turned out,
in the end. Confirmed it on an app.
Misplaced gasps corrected, the great
birds shrank, reduced to something else.
What were they thinking? Wheeling
into shot like that, prising open mouths
with such slick manoeuvres. As if air
belongs to them. Soaring at the rim
of this untroubled lake. Scoffing
at deluxe ice-cream lickers, toes dipped,
trousers rolled. Relieving hot soles from
the sweat-burn-ache of uphill walking.
Here in clockwork banker glitz-ville,
somewhere to the north of mountains.
Matt Gilbert is a freelance copywriter, from Bristol, England, who also writes a blog about place, books and other distractions at richlyevocative.net. He's had poetry published by Acumen, Atrium, and The Storms among others. His debut collection 'Street Sailing' was published by Black Bough poetry in 2023