from fragments towards the single man's hut

shadows and grass spun
minute by minute
remembering to look up

from fragments towards the single man's hut

and sometimes scratch
till one gets to the skin
or day goes grey then night

tumbles to it for once and for all
and goes to ground
tucks in the dark
a secret safely gone

from fragments towards the single man's hut

as clouds of heights hues hunches
head for their last shape
still pink to an edge
clouds the ridge hides
and those God’s country diagonals
as if the avatar walked off
in the breeze hat

from fragments towards the single man's hut

bend and stretch with the river
coming home
a study of dust in the last rays
the herringbone grey
the feather stipple

mad dash to the first position
and it will be my waking branch
ahead of me this flight

from fragments towards the single man's hut

and in the paddock of light lasting
a certain wisp of yours I’ve caught
oh I won’t dare the colour
but the rabbit’s already up in the moon

from fragments towards the single man's hut

penultimate

birds are rewriting the map
taking their measurements
checking again

push off the track
shaped to the tune of paws

push the day to its ends
the sunglance on it last

we coincide with the river
just when the river runs gold

from fragments towards the single man's hut

last

in the page
the glitter of eyes
cast to it
the years of seeing
worn from sight

we only draw lines
we only connect
this is how we’re described

a cattle moan of paddocks
or the wind could be a car