murmur

alone along the furrows edge

the light wringing its greying hands

upfield where the acreage cuts

a bank of black alders knot on the frost

still stopped, greys buffering

beyond this hour in its rivet

a demiurge lifting---

up goes a black box of wingbeats

snare stirring air, my heart

cannot hold its gradients

grey litmus, whose hand is never seen

the far dots perform screen-saver

folding in rorschach sheets

i sense a latency, the pit earth beneath my feet

my breath in bits, its caché in stratus

i remember the wet clods hurrying backwards, till you

sturnidae, whose sky

corners then banks, as you hang in your file of iron

your throat a great ecstatic

jabbering distance, quarrelling sleep, the

black bodies meddle, searchlings coruscate sky

flexing my eye, kyting its field climb

our poles sweep by on a single sine

one wave uplifted, its ocean flying---

the further off cold frames squat

denying the wheeling emptinesses

fields scaffolded, ditched

hedge-combed, diamonded to dust

the ribs of a plough rust abandoned

the sun recedes on a blank

the day is roost.