Sixty-seven storks and other poems

The spectacular Roi Fainéant Press has four of my poems in their archive HERE.

Sixty-seven storks came
before you were born,
the cigognes of Aubonne.
One nested on our roof.
My name’s 23, she said.
She was huge, six feet or more
from tail to beak, wing to wing.
Her feathers were white that
contained every colour.
Her wing tips were ink black
like the mother of all birds.

Photo by Francesco Ungaro on
Adrian Harte

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