Kay Ritchie

Glasgow, UK

Kay Ritchie grew up in Glasgow and Edinburgh, lived in London, Spain and Portugal, worked as a photographer and radio producer and now enjoys writing and walking. She has been published in magazines and anthologies and has performed at various events.

Poem completed 10th May 2020

Omen                                                                           

 

She texts to say her mum has died.

Of Covid.

Outside, four free magpies perch.

Perfectly still.

Perfectly lit.

Framed by my window.

I narrow my gaze,

amaze at their symmetry.

One for sorrow.

Two for joy.

Three for a girl.

Four for a boy.

Should I raise my hat &

spit three times?

I study texture, shape, form.

White bellies.

Black tails.

A black and white photograph?

A negative?

Four more appear.

Eight for a wish.

But now it’s a battle scene.

Males protect breeding grounds,

swoop round and round,

warble warning sounds.

I make a wish.

For her.

Because of the virus she’s on her own.

I phone.

She says she feels relief.

Her mum has found peace

Outside the struggle ceased.

The birds have flown.