Walking around the concrete and wire

of the perimeter fence is an exhausting thing

but the dogs need the exercise and so do we.

A bird flies at an acute angle across our oblong path

I see you open a packet of cigarettes and take one out,

the rims of dirt under your nails, it’s dirty work

and the fresh air isn’t enough we need to smoke

and see, disappearing over the tops of pine trees, a white sky

blank as an envelope, with no address, no location.

You speak about your wife expecting the third child

and how the girl does so well in athletics at school;

you look about yourself, as if where we were wasn’t here,

stamping your feet on the forest floor, you walk in a circle

and the dogs pick up your unrest I imagine

moving their ears and their tails in anxious agitation

and you pat, pet them, quite able to prove your humanity

but soon we’ll have to get ourselves back behind the wire

back to the desk, the endless admin, and all the rest.