This poem is taken from Stand 212, 14(4) December 2016 - February 2017.

Nick Foster Two Poems
Winter in Nicosia

Alouette would seem too natural a word
for this conjuror’s prop of metal and light
but the helicopter quivers as it struggles
rotor-blades dipped forwards to the wind
rain-drops clinging trembling on the glass

with this buffeting too much for our visitor
the pilot picks a painted H on a hill-top OP
transforming the lives of the soldiers there
saying we’re the first to land in their tour
running to get their cameras when we leave

heading for home into a shimmering haze
our pilot draws the silk veil from his finale
the walls of the Old City transmuted to gold
the minarets on the Lusignan Cathedral
shining like Zion in the sunlight after rain
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