on flight

I stopped by the lip of the city
where the lines to London curl south
breathed in the space
felt the frost in my throat
by the derelict site
more fenced-off car parking than I imagined
expanse of redundant concrete
split by grasses at its seams
reflecting the January Sun's warmth
enough to creat sufficient turbulance
to lift the buzzards
they spiralled upwards into the blue
then parted
one toward the ice-steamed broad
the other drifting to the shimmer of curved steel at Crown Point Stadler Traction and Rolling Stock Maintenance Yard

~

CLP 16/01/2022