On that first slow return of He Who Eats His Children,
Watch! Is me again
Awake and bound to the backyard trace, the strutting cocks of neighbours,
that blasted Housebird trill.
But daybreak does find me
Under bruise-blue cloud, water pearling on wind-torn fig,
Rain from butt and drain building into the yellow river.
Watch! Is me again
stepping out now for now,
In a storm burst from my whole life.
 And I walk forth again a child in wonder
Past sleep-drenched porches and all of them sullen watchful dogs.