dawn
the crab darkness
hurries into the trees
walk me to the moon and back
be quick now please
for every look up from my tea
sees a lightness to your touch
that stops in its rising as the mist
is damp on the cobblestones
damp on the seats in the garden
i can see them now just
the white hair of last summer’s
lobelia tussled in a blue pot
ivy moving to the touch of a blackbird
the cat is in and licking the night away
to the soft music of all this
fluttering of the hazel’s last leaves
a drip drops
morning has arrived
dawn is now a dunnock
pecking pecking
away with you
coffee soon
dusk
draining away
through the breach in the wall of day
all colour in the stilling wind
dropping soft in the backwarding
sluiced in the closing
they have gone the birds
nothing moves
the night things wait the closing
of the only flowers
a light pops on in the distance
the sigh of a rising moon
there
it is done
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