of a comic book character
broke free from
the minds of the children
playing in the verandah.
In the wind
it floated through the dark passageway
of bathrooms bursting with stars
into the mango tree nearby.
There it remained stuck in the branches
mistaken for a bedcover
which I always cover myself with
before going to sleep.
Looking out at the sky today
from my window
it’s beautiful bright blue
everything seems perfect.
Part of the terrace
of the building across mine
is a child’s painting
from a sketch-book.
Two white pipes
rise beautifully quiet.
A crow flies next to it.
The above poem is from my second book Circling the Sky (2013).