18 AUGUST 1990, Page 32

Hideaway

I shadow you into a grove of lilacs we lie on mattress-moss your flecked head at my ribcage sinks and lifts if we stay embraced this way nothing will happen if we pretend to sleep we can't be harmed you rise from me, a restless gull to swoop against the giants steepled like oaks around our hideaway three years old, you can teach your father after we fake sleep it's time to fly the net and grapple light

Robert Hamberger