It never switches off; even asleep
we listen in to gravity itself.
Crossing a field is one long exercise
in equilibrium – a player’s grace –
though what we mean by that
has more to do
than the physics we imagine.
A history of forest and the murk
of oceans, nice
in the memory of bone
lead us to this: the gaze;
the upright form.
Lemur and tree-shrew linger in the spine
becoming steps; a track worn in the grass;
a moment’s pause
before the rain moves in.
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