"All our lives are collections

curated through memory."

Dry Storage No. 1

   Richard Fortey

The old houses in the farmyard always

seem to hold nesting flycatchers

( Easterm Phoebe ?)

They greet the dawn and generally

watch over things. We were very happy

to see that our work on the cabin

was also supervised by one.

The Dawn Deer

A solitary silhouette at dawn, ears wide cocked like the gun
I do not carry, we are both poised between past

and future, and so we wait, trapped in the amber light.

For me this is merely a walk, I have simply paused

between one step and the next. But an error on your part
is freighted with consequences and finally you slip away.

Today neither of us is prey, but mute to each other

we know only what has been, not words, not intentions.

                                                                        Guy