Gales

Gales batter the city
like a child trying
to remove the squeak

from its favourite toy.
Skyscrapers, patients
on a surgeon’s table,

wait for the numbing
before blacking out.
Terrified blackbirds

watch from hollowed
out oaks, hands easing
out the cities’ noise

slippery as a newborn
calf. Its heart beats
in Morse code, revealing

a pair of fox cubs hidden
under earth; each particle
singing in protest.