is something first gold & blue
a big moon creamy just above trees &
apples, a branch of four apples & the leaves
always hard, ragged & the branch
roughly twisting in front of the field
that is an empty colour, bronze to gold
under a sky of dark blue that's yet thin
clear & open to us

& in the morning
(no this is not easy) the light is hidden
at least its source but it fills it all
& in the distance the hedgerows fade into mist
shining elsewhere down clear through the gate
onto the pure green lawn. If I follow that way
I shall discover the source of it all & if
I sit here I'll watch it rise up
& suddenly every leaf will glow.