The piano caught.

A crescendo of bright sparks

Splintered the sky

In a Ford Mustang

we cruised San Francisco Bay

recalculating

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