143

swallows encase me
in their african spirals
we all far from home

142 cally car park

waiting for the day
when the birds will stop singing
nothing remembered

141 john knox pulpit

pulpit for the sheep
path worn by a thousand feet
heaven still in clouds

140 inside the outside

here hills close to sky
everything animate
not dying inside
cocooned in tiny spaces
behind walls and glass
reflections of lost people
desperate to touch
the real dance its heartbeat
so here wind cools me
larks tug my eyes to the sky
earth moves me birdsong
its enchantment but heartfelt
liquid not solid
if i stand still its pumping
if i walk its a river

139 other

i know you by heart
wanting like mine, believing
in fading colour