Mrs Nevines’ bird sanctuary looks at first
Like a meshed community of cages
Where birds get better – or worse,
End up in the world of her glass cases.

At second glance, a white-faced owl
Blinks and pivots at the neck
(From north-north-east to roughly south)
The two halves of a single cheek.

But look again, and what’s revealed
Of Mrs Nevines’ healing work
Is how the sparrow, too, must heal
Fenced in beside the sparrowhawk.

As close against the glint of night
Her stands of birds keep airless watch –
That held the mountains underfoot,
And circled slowly on the lough.

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