Dream

It’s a night-time discovery
after a day fetching and grabbing
I turn in and lie - a body
un-prepossessed, an animal.


Amongst it all, daytime’s a stomp
picking flowers from meadows
and plastic bags from ditches.


At night I lay more still
(mechanical machinery stops)
and let-go, start to know
the slow art of no-doing and, so it seems, to dream.