by Robin Boothroyd

I spent the afternoon in Battersea Park today and a word in the book I was reading triggered this scene, which may make it into ‘Fathom’ (more here).



A fish is caught in the trap
of a cormorant’s dinosaur-beak
and writhes, half-swallowed,
swimming in air, desperate.

The bird opens his gullet, gulps,
gulps again: the fish vanishes
into the saltcellar of his stomach.


The cormorant is one of my favourite birds because they have the ultimate freedom to explore water, land and sky. If only I could do the same…