He left the light on
All night. It was absolute,
Until the curtains paled.
*
The child's hair was like
A dormant fire. His chest rose
In sleep, sparrowlike.
*
Did colour precede
Shape, or shape colour? We are,
As we are, our own.
*
The love he bore crept
Like a pale, new light. He got
Up, quiet. The child stirred.
Sunday 30 October 2011
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