Arrange it and throw it away –
the morning’s slow progress,
clouds building, sunlight
through red and yellow leaves.
Next door, a lawnmower refuses
to start. Sunday traffic rushing
along Ormond Road as a plastic bag
takes flight above the fence line.

§

On the porch an ochre pot
of pansies pushing forth
crimson flowers – six sparrows
erupting from the birches;
a barking dog. On the radio,
serious analysis of last night’s
game. The smell of rain arrives
before the showers begin.

§

Nothing just happens.
The cool breeze stirring the last
leaves from the birches; a new
renovation mimics period style.
Pigeons strutting along the roof
of St Matthew’s, a rainbow
dissolving over the bait shop.
The lawnmower starts at last.

§

In the news at half-time the left
imitating the right: working
families in a stretch of street
with only one family –
another dog starts barking
in a higher pitch.
Over the road the cheer squad,
still in team colours, begin
to gather for Sunday lunch.

§

Post-match: the debutant
invokes surrealism.
Late afternoon light
on the cyclamen’s
pink petals –
picket shadows
on the path.
The commentators
stick the knives in.

§

Streetlights, that in between time
as evening settles; rooflines,
aerials, the cross on St Mary’s spire,
the smell of fish and chips
hanging in the air.
A crow calls –
another answers.
Across the road
the curtains are closing.