Thursday extracts: a love story?

Kingfisher

I might have spoken (out there the dazzle
flung from the rippled surface, breaking in stars
and flakes on the leaning alders, on the scarred
stone of the bridge; the bird
skiming away, a spark, a brittle
sliver of turquoise light against the hot
pinks of the willowherb and balsam, inking
at the river's turn; and you
twisted towards me, for the barest instant off-
balance, your own
lips slightly parted) but I let it pass.

Jem Poster. Brought to Light. 2001

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I found this poem in a magazine many years ago and cut it out and stuck it in a scrapbook. I've always meant to buy the anthology, but I never have.