Some of them are taller than department stores,
and see, through the louvre window,
a shoal of olive-green fish changing direction
in the air that swims above the little gardens.
your sleep broken by a coal train on the empty hill
as the oaks roar in the wind off the channel.
these are accidental things.
We lost this game a long way back.
Look at you. You’re reading poetry.
Outside the spring air is thick
with the seeds of their children.