A Matter Of Gravity



Fourteen feijoas have fallen since yesterday.
In the half-light of morning, I check out the ground.
The goofy fat blackbird bounces in ecstasy
mad with the richness, this surfeit of food


this gaggle of goodness adrift on the ground
ready for all with a passion to feed,
luscious, elliptical (some almost round),
nourishment ripe for everyone’s need.


The starlings arrive to share in the greed,
the goofy fat blackbird bounces in ecstasy.
I settle down for a lingering feed.
Fourteen feijoas have fallen since yesterday.





Mary Cresswell is from Los Angeles and lives on the Kāpiti Coast. She's published poems in NZ, Aus, US and UK journals. Recent books are: Fish Stories: Ghazals and Glosas (Canterbury University Press) and Body Politic: Nature Poems for Nature in Crisis (The Cuba Press). She's a retired science editor/ tech writer.