Five a.m. planes shufflepush & slide as time loops from myfingertips: you sleep inanother’s bed head cradledby the night splash of sunat dawn. The childrenconcertina riding their ownprojectory, & the sea is inmy thoughts demands I shredthese London days; head for the horizonwhere the whales sing: where the big dippersigns my name silentlyin starlight.