The trees, good Seraphim,
begin to sing

at dawn
about making sugar

out of light
and the happy traffic

between high and low –
as if that were all




I expect compensation
for all I don’t
say –

for each time I stop
before coming

to an obvious conclusion
or an uncertain end –

for my discretion.




(Music needs silence
more than silence needs music.)


Photograph © Alexander Tiupa

Five Things Right Now: Cynan Jones
Polymorphous Perversity | Discoveries