At a Lecture on Reincarnation

     M.C. Newton          

My mind decides it has no need of 'proof'

and therefore slips away, just as it used to slip away

from school,

and I'm already resting on the sea,

with folded wings

and only half-awake,

a Brent goose with a sooty neck,

black feet, black eyes, black beak,

as much at home as any soul could be.

The lecturer is talking maths, I think,

but I am on the mudflats now,

head bent

and focused on a Brent-goose task

which, like so much I've briefly laboured at,

seems of extreme significance.

©2009 M.C. Newton.  Reproduced with permission of the author.