The night is moist to touch.
Wet, warm, sensuous, just a little too much.
It’s the kiss you pull away from.
Air heavy hot,
Only cut clean by the rat a tat rattle of the distant train track,
An edge to hand the road off.
Scents seethe jealous,
Honey, flowers, over boiled potatoes,
Stale sewerage simmers,
Sat too long in the day won sun.
It stinks under violet moon-jewelled sky. Perfectly incongruous but somehow still perfect.
Earth touched I am blackness, dense and deep,
Flat matt to all but cat eyes, dark hunters.
Frog-watch cautious I step stride,
Pacing the shadows,
And just for a moment all life is here. Concentrate in fullness.
A breath is held and the sky falls,
Drawing in trees, rocks, earth in spilt splat sound pictures,
A second sight found in flow,
Muddy footed magics.