Hostage

I was an amateur to love,

surviving - I thought - on instinct.

There I was, emblazoned in light           

on Broadway

singing to words I hadn’t learnt

In a plot I knew nothing of.

Carried along with the first night’s

crescendo.

Escaping from my cliff-edged nest

before my wings had strength to fly.

blossoming before the winter’s

final frost.

So when the theatre lay hushed

and swirling winds coughed me up and

rain bled into clotting knives, you

captured me.

[2009]