Strange years: two zoos, one circus, five nations,
and these notebooks wrapped in towels when I left.
Back home, their presence recollected: through the
rafters, the doorways, in bed. There are no indifferent
observers here, for water tastes always of the pipes.
Only a fool attempts to read their minds, and there
is no one here who has not tried.
***
With phrases from the preface of Katy Payne’s Silent Thunder.