I look for light where there is none,
taste the wind
for a salt memory of the sea
and touch the wild grasses
for the fleeting presence of a hare
wind blows
full of damp grey ribbons of cloud
streaks and shafts of steely grey
rain-wet and dew-wet
and a scattering of noisy finches
dusk seeps and creeps
beneath the cloud
between the rain drops
among the raggedy grass soldiers
still standing