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From “Terrestrials”
A sparrow weaves over the derelict terrace the psychics used to meet in toward the snow-garnished mountains! They brought their lozenges of grief here, held each other’s pallid hands and summoned reeds of kindness into their voices! The men down tools, take lunch, smoke in a row, dangle their legs from the wall! They’re kids mostly; a xylophone of hard hats tuneless in the rain! The half-built apartment block is waiting and they will never live there! I knew a boy who wanted to be a pilot so much that he became one! Farewell, years of simulated taxiing on the world’s fantastic runways! O night flights over the patchwork of Europe! O unscheduled layover! O seat belt sign! I knew a man who hiked into the mountains! His name was early morning light! His name was sunset in Libra! Between the Scots pine and the ash he found the branch with his name on it and stepped off it into the air!