Cuckoo

Cuckoo

I fall to Wales
between barred clouds and slate sea,

trailing a long day like a banner.
Coucou, I say, I am from Kinshasa.  

Cwcw, they say.
Soft rain rills desert dust from my wings.

I am not a migrant;
this is my second home.

I fathom the woods for dunnocks.
Zulus call me unokukhukhuza.

My eye is a universe.
I quarter the meadows for pipits.

My eggs hatch their terror like slow bombs.
More! they megaphone.

More! is not enough –
they might swallow their parents whole.  

They follow white thread stitching black roads to the coast.
Their hearts’ compasses beat them south:

Africa Africa Africa.
The sun scags at their backs like a hawk.

Forests applaud their arrival.
Warm rain brooks Wales from their feathers. 

Cwcw, they say.
Coucou, I say.

Feature Image: A chick of the common cuckoo in the nest of a tree pipit