Big Issue

I use to nickname 'Edward',
the footless bird.
Somehow he was immobile,
confined to doorway space.

You can fly, be anything.
You are immortal, but don't believe.
Fastidious or scared,
fickle and candid, my footless bird.

My footless bird had another life,
an eon before.
Coast guard in Devon,
the rock to the shore.

Well spoken, with a lucid tongue,
that would feel
good in my mouth.
But there was no space for me.

Selling the Big Issue made
you somebody.
My photo album
of your history and others.

Looked for you at christmas.
I had news to tell.
I was going away to Devon (inviting you),
but my footless bird had flown the doorway.

Ps: Good things to you always Ed. Hold your head high and proud,
because you can do anything. xxx Raina Clay