Express
the moor montage

rufous towhee
on bare branch
over heather

heather

mild you to mean it
dream we live on

dirt under glacier
heather path
to hilltop
either

therefrom
scrutinize the sea
never hurt to

especially now
the wind so
rare from the east

the bird in you
hearkens

hear everything
while it can

speak

whose house
had crushed
seashells the
path to it

suspend judgment

take the winner’s
side for a change

heather
Lent in August

promise no names
have all been spoken

blue pebble
sand all the way
up here

the things they do
rain pool

whose hips
happening the hill

bird scare
fox in heather

heather

mind is where
names are stored

mix them up
as music

on the parapet
a silence

left over
from so many wars

from far
green of
aspen down there

woodcock
in hedge

the bird says

if you miss
the island
you still have the sea.

7 September 2020