Flash of water and sun
The seasons run, fast skimming feet
Past the leaves.
Nothing returns.
One warms ones hands cupped at the sun,
Eats an orange in the sun
Lips hard against the pulp.
Sun glances down the quiet lane
Over the red buildings.
Footsteps patter past the leaves
Ahead, a flash of blue, then dimness.
The years flash in a moment in the sun,
Through the dust wind and the faces.
You cup an orange to warm your hands,
Draw the shawl close.
Lost letters and fallen leaves fly past
Ten years of dust.
Coming from childhood to age,
The incompleteness of a life.
The eye seeks blue in the shimmering air
Through the smoke and dust,
The glimmering mist that spirals
Dusty gold in the wind,
Torn apart in the wind,
To a vision turned tree.
Ghosts cry at the end
Of sunny winter streets
And one never meets them again.

NEWS IN BLOOD
Patterns on black and white newsprint
You slash a line and the blood wells through
Afghanistan, Los Angeles, Sarajevo
Black and white and red all over

---

16 Renford Road (four)
Page 17