Swallow all the pebbles on the beach
and still the sun will shine, no less
lovely than it is today.
We weigh our understanding of sea ice
with every stalled breath; melody
in minor key may crumble mountains.
Pick daisies, whistle for the moon
and it will follow you, even down
the dark streets of Manhattan.
Spell ichor, samphire, ichthyosaur
and listen to them pulsing through the blood
like echoes from a spiral galaxy.
Paris is not so very far from palaeolithic
and neither explains the mystery of egg.
If you think the effort worth it
breathe deeply, take small steps
to the brink, be wary of the albatross.
If you have any comments on this poem, Shirley Wright
would be pleased to hear from you.