WALKING ROUND BEECHCOMBE

chocka rentaskips
on stubby driveways
&
a loosened kerbstones
miniature rockfall
&
the leaves are golden shadows
spread under the naked trees
&
the lights on distant cranes
only white flares in the mist
&
a single bin is a dumb sentinel
at the edge
of the stretch
of wet field

~

i imagine a smudged murmuration
the wavy shape of a question mark

over the bowling green
i used to hop the fence to

to lay there
high on the best grass