OUT OF SIGHT
( for Shyam )


A constellation
comes to rest

amongst the branches
of a young tree

plays with her leaves
for a little while

then when I turn
my head away

it rests
upon the ground

pretends to be a cobweb
stretched from hedge to hedge

and only in the very act
of my turning back

does it leap
into the sky

as if "nothing"
had happened

an owl gives a hoot
but no one is listening

not even the moon
asleep on a hill

a mile or so
away

the constellation clasped
upon the night

beautiful as a brooch
made out of time

the squeak squeak
of a bicycle wheel

that needs an oiling
as I cycle slowly slowly

around the bend
the tick tick of the spokes

and. . .
. . .out of sight.