Across the railway

in the shadow of the crag

Margaret’s forest

In Quebec city

flowers and neighing horses

adorn cobbled streets

Philadelphia

smells like a cinnamon bun

A warm embrace

Next to a railway

in a field, they pull ragwort

for love of a horse

While her parents laugh

a clown with a painted smile

scares a little girl

My bedroom window

faces east. Every day

a fresh new palette

By the tower blocks

No trees to bow or grass to sing

Relentless wind

Following winter

Everywhere new shoots spring

Irrepressibly

Today I will read

The writings of a scholar’s

Erudite thesis

now the deepest pink

a rosy morning glow spreads

the promise of joy