I caught three scruffy urchins
in a dismal alley corner
… trying to drown a magpie
inside a dented, metal bucket.
It was half-fighting back
… exhausted yet struggling,
as its black and white friend
rasped and called siren-like
from frantic wall to gate top.
“Two for Joy!” I yelled,
foot-knocking over the bucket,
then clapping hands together
with such an almighty smack
that I half-frightened myself.
The wet, disoriented bird
was free, yet side-walking
the cobbles like a drunkard.
I scooped it up, to a shed roof,
it pecked me as I did so…
I smiled, a very weary smile
at the ‘Battle’ still inside,
this feisty, little miracle…
who could now fly unfettered
to dawn another early morning.