dazelnut
Carry on to the east,
Carry on with your bow and harpsichord
carry on with a pack of pens, pocket of jelly;
leave pretty messages behind trees and smiles on strange faces.
Rows of grain,
sway.
Lay flat,
cut short
from sickles
disarrayed.
a thick trunk at the tip of my tongue
pasty white bark; it looks smooth enough
but roughish to touch
sliding licks
pale pink fingers
eating crackles
Muscovite
Mr's Simpson sipping tea
dark panelled wood, drapes and foggy windows
Sergeant Someone, red coat.
Sometimes,
tide coming in
little ripples
over pebbles
scarecrows for
penguins and seagulls