The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way our umbilicus.
Is it a consolation that the stuff of which we’re made
is star-stuff too?
– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –
dispersal only: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen.
Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.
Monday, 30 January 2012
there is only the dance
chill on the moorland's
even the rooks are sulking
this wet no-horizon day –
at the window
scribble of beech twigs
vowels of rain
here in the hall
we are a storm of leaves
blown on the music
this present moment –
on the dancefloor
of the heart
there are no exiles
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