caterpillar pumps across
my path I wish I’d brought a
pen here this phone is foreign
words come fast
fall
away

my view sighs
when i lose my feet
to look up out over
all plumped soft green willow
pine lichen oats breast deep

suddenly
two hours my muscles belong
to incline winter broken roads
milky river

fossick without commentary without
the energy of another tap
tapping like a cat at a bucket
i lap the sunlight scattered

London’s tomorrow
here again is a week to go
it will have changed
the hornet will switch
to fierce and hound on
my tail at the same chestnut
by the bridge

draw breath think inside out miss
nothing meet no one no
dialogue no inner
chatter

me
and the bird crazy
sexy spring