:::poetry
the warm and dappled sun
the cross-talk of the trees
the county bees
fear and peace
lying on the ground
the turf under the crease
between our knees
one in the sky, clouds
beneath the feet

warm and spraying through the bleating
space, its stars
sheep
mulberry seeds, these staining these
wand’ring in heat
flesh and porcelain teeth
the dome grey blue
innards and space tū look on tū
with eyes that cry and seek

in the grass, hazelnut and green
the heavens and the earth
sunken deep into
the pleated seat
:::