It's Still Life

A Very Long Sentence

I saw it first in children as they
broke into the sunlight, scooping

fearless holes in the air, their
small bare feet swiftly padding

on snow-white shingle beach,
and running for the sea — their

toes foraging in the seaweed,
furrowing through the sand,

and I press against the window,
and hide myself in a cloud,

my will and fortitude stolen by
apprehension I dare not stir,

where crowds find hairsbreadth
passage in the sun’s expanse,

and imperceptible breath
washes in every direction.

This is a very long sentence.