From the Book - First edition.
The distance and the spoils
Not the waves as they make thier way forward
Several birds in hand but the rest go free
The dark no softer than it was before
What I see is the light falling all around us
Black and copper in a crush of flowers
That it might save, or drown them
More tenderly over some of us than others
The way one animal trusts another
A stillness between the hunting and the chase
Before the leaves turn back