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Gedicht

Kathryn Daszkiewicz

THE RIGHT WORDS

THE RIGHT WORDS

THE RIGHT WORDS

After months in the far north
they return, like snow buntings,
in a blizzard of wings. I did not
think they could thrive in icy climes
but here they are, searching the wrackline
for drifted seed. When they turned pale,
fell between a rock

and a barren place, they lay
deep in a corrie in a nest lined
with sheep’s wool, fur
from a mountain hare.
And down from a ptarmigan
conferring resilience
its chameleon gift.
Kathryn Daszkiewicz

Kathryn Daszkiewicz

(Verenigd Koninkrijk, 1961)

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THE RIGHT WORDS

After months in the far north
they return, like snow buntings,
in a blizzard of wings. I did not
think they could thrive in icy climes
but here they are, searching the wrackline
for drifted seed. When they turned pale,
fell between a rock

and a barren place, they lay
deep in a corrie in a nest lined
with sheep’s wool, fur
from a mountain hare.
And down from a ptarmigan
conferring resilience
its chameleon gift.

THE RIGHT WORDS

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