It’s heavy and light;
Damp and warm.
Open your palm wider:
It’s vast and floating.

At noon it’s blue;
Orange by five.
Birds flew by at dawn. A wing brushed my thumb,

I place it down in the sink and watch it under the taps:
The rain is contained in its edges, but
Clouds shadow the porcelain.

It thundered on Thursday
Turning the hairs up on the back of my hand.

I don’t know when it fell, but
I found it whilst planting tulips.
Maybe it was nudged, knocked down for me.
A peep hole for you


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