Dream of Flight

A white synthetic body,

gold patterned plastic wings.

It swoops above our garden,

flutters, flaps, glides and shines

against the summer sky.

I stand below and look up

at the featherless bird; amazed

by how it moves, its grace.

My brother beside me; proud

he knows how it works.

It winds up, getting stranded,

at the top of a dead oak.

Tired from its exertion,

or looking for a mate,

it perches there, but does not sing.

Motionless it seems to eye

the heraldic Liverbird, trapped

in stone, at the top of our house.

The Liverbird eyes it back

but neither of them fly.

I beg my brother to rescue

our bird, to bring it back,

but he says no, the tree’s

too old, too high, too risky.

But I know I’ll get my way.

A white rayon bomber jacket,

camouflage combat trousers.

He shins up, above my head,

clambers, scrambles and silhouettes

against the summer sky.

I stand below and look up

to my daring brother; amazed

by how he moves, his grace.

My brother above me; proud

to climb all the way

to the branch where it landed

at the top of the dead oak.

Tired from his exertion,

or looking for his prize,

he perches there, but does not speak.

Motionless he seems to eye

the mechanical bird, trapped

in the tree. Grabs it, grips, teeters, slips;

silently they fall together

and neither of them fly.