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I'm composing
in my sleep again
cryptograms for Melusine
sighed melismas
pinned
to night's long drone
cyphers pegged
on 12-string tripwire staves
wound in nickel
soaked & lightly charged
with numb requietude
meanwhile gunshot cracks
around the hills
the village church bells
dangle overdue in mist
& beaten metal
pressed through air
tucks up against
our other-worldliness
warrens of memory
populate
with scarpering hares
& every week
a lost pointer
pants uphill
for water & redemption
begs me to remove
the sense of loss
we seem to share
let's swap chips
I say in dog
I'll chase game
do my canine nut
& you sit here
& wait
stare at this blue
fuel-trail scored
airborne idea
of sky
or if you prefer
there's Hughes'
suicidal sea
anywhere you look
nature's lock-down
has you sussed
there is refuge
in the nonsense
of dreams
Valverde, 30th October 2017