SONG IN THE LIGHT OF DAWN Fish. My eyes were sleepy fish and in the overcast world the road to work was mud. Then something near a pond turned my head. A black bird's banded wing made the perfect lure, the gay colour a hook without hurt, a blushing wash. Now further on on this shoulder of the high way even the gravel and asphalt greys overflow their textures. They're so clear I feel more than awake. Oh to stay and swim in there here would be