March 2009
Here, hearing the bird group chattering on
on a bright morning, walking into
the town through park of rucking tree
ATM, bank, Post Office par avion, butcher for lamb
town hall clocking in on time
cattle market empty
car park of ticketing circulation
rugby, the Blorenge opposite
breaking industry and agriculture
the Ysgyryd Fach to the east by the railway track
the air clear, hot ready to bite you
back up to the top, heart pumping
take a lunch of sausage, bread, a pot of Rooibos tea
in the afternoon, tidy up the place, then writing
the night bringing
an oh la la woman to the shop for a pack
then taking her away from me
now walking back alone with my beer
