Hands and the Hour (AATTBB) – PDF Download

Twilight, and no-one’s raised a hand
to close the shutters yet.
We have one hour,
this lamplit hall between arrivals and departures
between the day and night-time,
night-time and the day.

Bright illumination all along our street
the body’s heat draws inwards
like a tent lit up, like the warm low rays of sun
between the day and night-time,
night-time and the day.

Light lingers in the parks and squares
small papers swirling there like leaves
not leaves but birds, not birds
but hands between the day and night-time,
night-time and the day.

On the cusp of dark the evening star appears
hope’s matchlight flaring, while below we cup
our hands around the glowing candle-flame of home.
(between the day and night-time,
night-time and the day).

So many hands, small wingspans hovering
above the low fields of our fires.
Now winter is the glinting world,
summer the life to come
between the day and night-time,
night-time and the day.