Hermetically sealed in a green
World of silence and bird-talk
Ignorant of humankind, ah what
A day of days communing with strange
Creatures of the ground; a yellow
Lizard wriggled out of sight;
Even the mosquitoes ignored
The drift of hand amid the compost. . .
Slow motion world; there again, long gone
Lay the infant intent on a natural world
The peopled commune still to come
And go, possibility time’s child.
Copyrighted by the author