Words of an old song

and melody awaken

memories of love

Day moves in gently

pushing aside wrinkled sheets

from pinky grey skies

The sun peaks over

the horizon to check first

night is in retreat

In a shanty town

a battered old typewriter

finds a young poet

Sleep drifts in at last

cat curling behind the knees

book falls to the floor

No social distance

unmasked kids cluster around

cans and bags of chips

Sitting by Costa

somewhere a wife and kid wait

afraid of the streets

Outside Domino’s

close to Sainsbury’s express

hoping for supper

A woman greets me

from her spot on the pavement

hunger in her eyes

A carton of milk

left out for my breakfast

little gift of love