for Gail Hennessy
I expected those clouds today as full as purple damsons
hung ripe and
low across the flatness of the rooftops
Islington Hamilton
Mayfield to
split into
warm
gold juiced-up sunset rather than the rain that
came and went a ceremony for alighting from the car
the
winter here is sunshine gloved up
inside that velvet
that face peeping out enough to stop us straying off to
snow to other lovers ski field
holidays tropical islands
the the stuff of dour people here we make damp fires
the most we have to find in May our
gum boots
this rush of plums the red of Poinciana
kisses wait
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