The neighbor is a devout woman.
 She bakes bread and lights candles

I’ve got all this money lying around.
Have you got anything you can do with it?

What fell between an abrupt shower
and a sky’s attitude was your memory.

Colleagues munching bap and burger
thought Ramadan was that juicy winger,
his scorching pace soon snaffled up by City.

Sings at the top of the bare-branched tree
an aubade to morning
welcomes the light,  
early spring, season of nest-making.

as the tanker tore
its throat against the
shallow spine, as
the village unravelled

Between the trees dust shifts,
light fractures like a prism.
A cathedral silence greens the air.

The French term terrain vague enfolds
a plot of land I thought at first was vague,
undefined and malleable.

mornings
I wake wary
of abundance
wondering why I’m still here
and then I recall
all the green leaves
with their hiding birds