let’s bury this in the loam of soft memories…
Ella and Louis
the coco pops patter of vinyl t w i r l i n g
pencils and maps you’ve drawn of home, lovely names
Maraziii o n Pol zzeath
and, the rain, would you believe, on the skylight
The night was thrown thick over the world.
It muffled the stars, at the hour when
We saw the fox.
Lamplight yellow she was
Curled like a fern, like the spiral of a snail shell, in the grass.
She was there to begin with.
Her brother slipped nose- first out the dark;
If he was called, we never heard the call.
Our breath met in a cloud.
They slowed time with their tails
And they drew a fortress around their patch of night.
They had let us in and now they let us out.
When we looked back, they still were keeping vigil for their circle of sky.
a toddler has thrown a bucket of gold up the walls of the minster
and you have been caught in the flood
we sit in front of the sun
and are still; i don’t know when next i will be clean like this
at night there comes a wave
which i sit under.
more and more now,
the water seeps into my daytime thoughts
the safety of sunlight is not to be trusted.
instead i seek your wings
and i listen for your call
but you, who have comforted me before
seem to be soaring above
whilst i hang in a tarry sea
yet even as i am there, i know that my lungs will not split
for you are in the nighttime and the day
you are in the waves and the clouds and you are
the breath in me
last night i think i dreamed of you
but i really can’t be sure
i pray they’ll never make a man out of you
the light condenses on the window panes
and the sky is syrupy.
i think it will rain today.
i left you in the doorway this morning
i hung off your pockets and cried
and felt knee- high
a five year old who cannot imagine the eternal stretch
of a day
but a woman’s legs took me away
and i did the sensible thing.
did you lock up behind you?