I should say this to you
in moonlight,
when there is no such word
as no.    --- Samuel Peralta


If we find beautiful walls,
from ancient lives,
then those stones gently demonstrate
a painterly line, deceptively simple,
undulating between us.
Impossibly possible, but true,
dividing walls link and hold
any space so close-connected that
a construct must define the two.

StrangeI should say this to you.
If we walk there, glancing across
that well-reckoned gap,
sharingthe scent of green and
wind and remembering hill forts,
will you smile, even unto the eyes?
A silent turn upon the fading light,
Not sure what lies beyond
and whether swelling darkling hills
might be revealed by touch and sight
in moonlight

If wonders never cease,
And they do not,
(A secret I have recently recovered)
This wall is one of seven sacred marks--
A division of downs, visible from space,
Still rising where it first occurred.
Like skin on skin, borders become us,
Spreading a mortar of honey, if well met.
Wall, a wall, may we rest like the last bird
When there is no such word

If the other part waits at the window
And looks across the sap green hills,
At peace, waiting, watched and watching,
If a now-familiar lineage of hip and eye,
Reflects our linked perfect state to
Trace faint borders on the epidermal flow,
I should say this to you
in moonlight,
when there is no such word
as no.










Those Who Knew Them Best