Paying Attention

Matilda Houston-Brown reminds us of how fortunate we are, where we are. Photo by Calum Taylor.


what do I get? Now, there’s the huge way of 
sun caught between windowsills of potted cacti.
We’re building sunflowers with our
hands, like chimneys, yellow cathedrals. Four
tattooed dots sketch out full stopped ellipsis.
My ankle swelled up, bruised sallow rainbows.

what do we get? New dog in the doorway
sings applause. I lie tied up with the hot
new sky, wrapped in a stone circle. Spring picks up 
its feet. Sheep chase the goats round the fresh
paddock we picked, staccato cloven hooves.
Good Friday, we walk outside for the change.

on the last day in my notebook I got 
you, again, again, huge ways the sun criss-
crossed your floor, paving to written mornings
alongside the rain, wetness of an earth
re-owned, handed out in fistfuls. I wrote
that the world feels too much of everything,

that I am so lucky to be in it.

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