I LEAVE THIS AT YOUR EAR
I leave this at your ear for when you wake,
A creature in its abstract cage asleep
Your dreams blindfold you by the light they make.
The owl called from the naked woman tree
As I came down by the Kyle farm to hear
Your house silent by the speaking sea
I have come late but I have come before
Later with slaked steps from stone to stone
To hope to find you listening for the door.
I stand in the ticking room. My dear, I take
A moth kiss from your breath. The shore gulls cry.
I leave this at our ear for when you wake.
- W.S.Graham (from ‘Malcolm Mooney’s Land’- 1970)











