Two close voices


If I remember
when the full moon rose
while sunlight still warmed
the evening’s outline from below
I don’t picture you in the scene
but understand
that you were everywhere
each closing bud
each bird settling to roost
each creature setting out
on night’s business.


The ingrained body
makes life sweet on the land.
The leaning gate
clicks into place
the twine slips back
into its groove around the post
the foot finds its niche
in the hollow of the path
and the path leads home.



Steve Perfect is a writer and artist living and working in South London. His artist’s books are in the collections of Tate, the V+A and the National Poetry Library. Poems have recently been published by Alchemy Spoon and New Boots and Pantisocracies.  Twitter: @Steve_Perfect  Instagram: steve.perfect