Swallows (by G.B.Bickley) ☆ 轉貼

I drive to work early, avoiding worse
traffic at the approach road to the Tunnel
by Lion Rock.

Yesterday, for the thrid time, I saw, in front
of me, a flock of birds wheeling two...three...times
in the clear early air;
practising their departure.

Their wings caught the moring sunlight as they turned
and rose, speeding together towards dense tower-blocks;
avoiding collision and death
by beating upwards suddenly,
turning,
and swinging
unanimously
back
to where originally, they grouped.

three times they do this, before I crawl
under them, and lose sight of them.

But something puzzles me.
One part of them only
seems to separate and fly lower than the other,
between, not above, the buildings,
dangerously;
each time survives,
rejoins the group,
miraculously.

then I see, no miracle at all.
it is their shadows only
which swirl in and out
between the tall concrete
and deceptive glass.
Their true selves remain above,
free in the familiar sky.

And I ask, is there a parable here?
Is it the shadows only of our Hong Kong selves that
seem
to fly away
from Kai Tak;
our real
selves
remaining behind

9 October 1997