Poem

At ten to three this afternoon
sunlight spliced the clouds and splashed across the bedroom floor
briefly
the clouds were jostling each other, crying On, On, On, On
echoing Thomas' Troublesome Trucks

Baz and I walked by the canal
along a muddy path
Spring green willow drooped over the water
boats lined the bank
some well kept, some crumbling

we reached the lock
where daffodils sat with teasels
an unkempt man sat at the trestle quaffing beer from a bottle
he greeted Baz
white blossom adorned the hedges

on our return, a young man threw
a stick for one of his two dogs, a brindled Boxer
runners and walkers passed us by
no dogs for Baz to greet
then home to grate the ginger