Three miniatures
I.
Clotted
grace. Sottish wind.
The agapanthus
nods
her head
without
enthusiasm
consent
in
slightest legal sense – to intrude now
would
be an act of violence.
There
is still solace in solitude
The sump,
the swamp, the sinking bog of it.
Settle
down, as dusk does.
No
lance will pierce this heart.
II.
Earth
Tramp. Adrift/ neither moorings nor bearings
Describing
inadvertent circles and
spiralling
to centre. Circumference reduced
to dot
or spot, the Here.
The How
of it all forgotten.
III.
Bagman.
Swagman. Courier of A to B.
Take it
- - - - - - - across space.
The
risk resides Outside.
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