the dawn

the roots became portals
to a place where space
arched into capillaries

over the breadth of them
you called
with the conviction of a lamb

this is the cradle of existence
the dawning of space
just blue lines and bending time

the carpel was steeped
in fragrance
like nutmeg

my senses collapsed
I didn’t need them anymore














The Lorenz attractor

Dartford Warbler

The red eyes
of Dartford warblers
are veiled by gorse bushes
that wallow
in timeworn thorns.

Two scrawny legs catch a branch;
its tail bobs
as it warbles
a song that rises like bamboo

over the heath.
This is where I’ll eat my sandwiches,
in this crook of goodness
where the birds burst and croon.

brighton beach

he had a scar on his hand..... a carpenter’s wound

except he had no tools or wood

only liquor

to keep out the cold

his hands were scrunched tight

and a trail of lucent water flowed down

from his waist to the sea

I stopped and stared for a while

unable to move into his world but

it didn’t matter

the ambulance came..... and before long

the stranger was tucked into a bag like a loaf

it finally dawned

that for the homeless..... even in death

dignity is absent

tawny owl

the owl was an awl

flapped its wings once or twice

before piercing the air

tearing into the emptiness..... a funnel

rolling the air into shavings

the rock remained still

so that’s its home

a bracken mesh

I navigate through this landscape like a polaron

mining the northern flank

praying for another sighting..... I smile

for that small owl

with eyes like darkling beetles

was startled into a cadence

far beyond reckoning