Truth and Lies

It was all so easy then.
Like that night we spent
up in the tree-house;
never before had the sky
seemed more like the sea,
rocking us to sleep.

Then, a woodlouse crept
onto your leg. I shone a torch...
cringing inside, making out
I didn’t mind. Brushed it aside;
bull-shitting you – a breeze
in them there days

and that peach-pink dawn...
the mewing of a buzzard
running rings around its mate,
and a heron, trawling
the blue; black-cloaked,
against a morning moon.