the water in the water
tank drips

the waters isn’t water
for my lips

the water is
the drips

somewhere deep within
the level slips

over

Up at the top of the acre
where the overflow stand-
pipe comes up
out of the grass,
there's so much running
water that reeds and rushes
have taken over
and choked up the land

In the evening
looking up to the window
as I wash
I see a family of roe deer, down
from the woods
in among the reeds

In the morning
they're still grazing there
quietly
as if nothing’s

changed

the award of this medal is made to this man for    
I think it was a woman who once said that love
is composure under enemy fire and a small act
of extreme slowness a willingness to endanger
his life between two people who think but time
and again returning to the field he maybe really
didn't know who ultimately sacrificed his life
either of the two parties ever were or when they
whilst carrying the fallen from combat and he
first really gave then broke each others' forever
will be cherished
in our aching

Having no sense of the new      Having
only the sense
of a continuous now      Having
no sense of the new Having only
the sense of a continuous
now   Having no
sense of the new    Having only the
sense of a continuous now    Having no sense
of the new    Having only the sense
of a continuous now     Having no sense of
the new     Having only the sense of
a continuous now     Having no sense of the
new      Having only the sense of a
continuous now