This Love

by Cáit O'Neill McCullagh

O there are many kinds of love you might regret
the queasy softening of your spring queen knees
as a boy (or robin) tilts beak-up & blush-chested
to trill dowl into your nest-ready heart & steal it

the dead Spaniard eyes of a silver-crowned sparrow
love in the constant uncolour of cloud-covered sky
lead & ash its promise, fierce unfaltered faithful
calling coorie here forever under steady eaves

you might never regret the love for you alone
goose-gorgeous down-nested & mounded in
moss-happit lichen-love that can only heal
you’ll find it on the lee side of the sun

large & all black-mortal is a raven’s love
a passerine one to sing life’s end with
& what if this love is all that yearns
between sky & earth? Regret it not.

This love will call you home.