about colour. . . 
        the moment it changes       from one to another in the quick look 
              as when one going 
                    thinks to turn 
                       or thinks 
          they notice 
 noise 

and spreads open the urge 
    to look from above 
           takes it all up 
           carries all colour and sound to height  
until what was here
           is not 
and what is not 
           is  

about water . . .
       how it swells up to dry 
                  or does not 
           where springs keep safe insinuates of life 
       among weights of rock and clay 
   which sometimes troubled by a finger of root
allow space
enough 

about wind . . .
burnishing the earth 
     with slow breathing 
or cuffing and pushing 

or how long time       will reel around sun’s heat 
        as sun keeps expending 
            and all the rest expanding    
 expanding . . .

or
how long it takes for the spirit to be eaten by the predator . . .

or how 
to go like a seed from its clock . . .
be the soundless sound after the last breath  . . .

be the bowl 	laid on the table  
touched
emptied

Poem by Jo Mariner / Photograph by Sion Edwards