I return br from fishing br feeling guilty br of the fish in the pail br br still alive and kicking br not realising it's his prison br & he is to be turned br into dinner br br (the freshest fish of all) br to find you've fallen br asleep by a dying fire br br I gather its embers together br & with my breath br breathe life back into it br br until it cackles & flares br its flickering dancing br across your still sleeping face br the fire greedily devours br a feast of twings br br that only makes it hungry for more! br Grasses tickle br your nose br br some tiny bug br crawls across your shoulder br as if you were only br a landscape it labours over br and not my angel lost in sleep. br I cut & gut br the fish br br (a guilty Budhist) br & serve it up br on a large leaf br tasty & delicious br just for you br br to wake & savour br a fish fit for br a dreamer.