The Kingfisher

Common clay

Consider the mechanism of the heart
Not in any metaphorical sense
Not with notions of love and yearning and the needs of the soul
But with an engineers’ calibrated eye

Note the valves
Note the animation of the flesh and its essential rhythm
Consider the sinus node
Pull apart the heart walls and inspect the cells for fibrosis.
When it stops working, you will die.

I know that you understand this as a general notion but consider
For a moment the hair from which your life hangs
Try to reconcile your bank statement after really coming to grips with that.
Try to cook dinner.
Try to walk the dog without worrying you are about to collapse.
Try to listen patiently to the concerns of others.

You will, inevitably, return to the mechanism of your heart.
You will cock your head to one side as you aim to discern the various rhythms,
One from another, that course through your body
You will mistake anxiety for a palpitation and vice versa
Your pulse will alternately race then slow, and it will refuse to be governed,
Not by common sense or the metal box in your chest.

Deep in the night you will wake with fright, thinking you were already dead.