Tin can guns
topless and bronzed
strode the bend
from Saturday song
dialling threat levels
of passers by
tote bags in hand
all boots and tie.
Waste, they thought
but wouldn’t say
judging others
against their way.
Speeding fast
he stirred a scare
with their read
of chest ink bared.
Some crossed over
turned back, slowed
at his intense focus
and sunburn glow.
He walked in road
and dropped his knees
lifting the wings
of a bird from sea.
Gently and calmly
he placed her down
on a curb of safety
as cars sped round.
With sighs of relief
judges felt no regret
of the book cover fable
they know and forget.
