After they found me hiding in the fork of the yew
I climbed into the chimney of the derelict house.
Curled in the bend, I saw the blue hole of the sky.
I liked silos, undersides of bridges, fields of tall maize.
I clambered onto bales to smoke under the barn roof.
Later, I lay down in a high-sided trailer and went to sleep.
When I woke I was out on the sand dunes under stars.

At school I lurked in the ball alley after lights-out,
or in the chapel by the glow from the tabernacle.
I thought you can hide in galleries and foreign cities,
in bars in daytime, even in a swimming pool.
There are hours you can spend loosely tethered to a lover.
There’s the solace of watching over a sleeping baby.
The peace at night in the company of a dead body.