Friday, 10 August 2012


You get older and the roar starts
the quiet flourishes
you wonder where the crowd went.

A cause to canvas for?
I wake up in the morning.
It takes me hours to focus

but when I manage it
I hum dully, rigged
with a sort of ease, mindful

of the Galilean orbits
the way the sun splinters
tracks in the nightly snow.

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