by Don Paterson     Jamie made his landing in the world     so hard he ploughed straight back into the earth.     They caught him by the head of his one breath     and pulled him up.  They don‘t know how it held.     And so today thank what higher will     brought us to here， to you and me and Russ，     the great twin-engined swaying wingspan of us     roaring down the back of Kirrie Hill     and your two-year-old lungs somehow out-revving     every engine in the universe.     All that trouble just to turn up the dead     was all I thought that long week.  Now the thread     is holding all of us： look at our tiny house，     son， the white dot of your mother waving.

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