Night falls, blanket thick
Purple edged spider’s nests
Reach thin-fingered starwards
Through cloud soup
Lit from beneath
Acquiring the power
That underlies them
Here on the bed
Tea-cosied and gestating
New Life
From within
Offering spirits in transit
A fresh home from Wrugbe
Flash in the dark speaks
Perhaps you too will relearn 1000 languages
When it is your turn to leave.