sticky day...

flying ants commandeer

my yellow t-shirt

holiday plane...

      a pale moon moves

with each twist of its wing

bath water cooling

half-asleep I’m immersed

in the ‘Pines of Rome’ *

*(A symphonic poem by Respighi)

brisk wind...

a flickering mosquito

grips the window pane

time-out on a bench...

when lunch is opened

a blackbird appears

from the night bus

a full moon bouncing

all over the place

a touching film...

for two hours the soft

pitter-patter of rain 

arcade quartet—when

the plate comes round

the crowd melts away