Tact

1 May 2018

Last night, after we saw you both,
a thrush came to our sill.

Wild for light – her eye
striking at the glass –

for a sea was at her side.
She crouched as if to rest –

then dived. And I

may never rest again
in what is real to me, the known,

having touched small distances
impassable as worlds’.

Brick by brick, I have stroked
the rough wall

of your mind at its remove –
warm, unthinkable

and near.

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