Second sleep

Black cattle move soundlessly on the hillside.

I’ve woken after a second sleep. The hawk

rising above the valley’s other side

now paddles across the front of our house, heading north.

Maybe, I want to stop and sleep deeply

in two instalments? The first sleep

drifting from a stillness

as I hear you chopping carrots in the kitchen.

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To Fox (on despair)

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Traditional church: “faithful and fitting in”