The skylight is a never-ending book. He wakes
to see a page of ghost-fish, feathers, chalky ferns.
A cockerel’s chanting its times tables out beyond
the orchard and that secret path between tall trees.
It’s a morning fit for otter, buzzard, beaver
and the sleek cat’s creep. Leaves, and things that scuttle
through the leaves, are rousing in the tunnelled lanes.
The hedgerows quiver with their living silences
and lost worlds shimmer in the rocks. Yesterday
he found an ammonite – a shiny, tight-ribbed spiral,
pyritised, no bigger than a peppercorn,
the histories of oceans coiled in his small hand.

Published in The Frogmore Papers and in ‘Infinite In All Perfections’ from Happenstance Press