Nothing moves
the tree in the pavement
is a cut-out
the sky above its ceiling
all is airless
a photograph of night funeral
Nothing moves
the world locked in the key
of anonymous night
sound is still-born
dark keeps its distance
Nothing moves
the walls of the world
were built in silence
nothing heard in the cell of night
Sleep not willing to bed with me I rose and sought the soft folds of water. Eyes to the stars I floated in the cool white sent by streetlights over
Though he did not know it Though he did not know it the beggar who crutched his way up the middle of the road in the middle of the night
I approach the bed in darkness my head feeling happy for tomorrow there’s that coffee arrangement to look forward to and then…I slow need something there, search the cupboard, bare