Ten years ago

For Ed...


I can smell you.

Someone is wearing your washing powder,

Or a fragrance you once wore.


I can smell you right now,

Ten years in the future.


I think of you before a man lifts his arm.

His pit exposed,

Level with my nose.


I think you wanted me to know,

That you were with me at the show.

Just as we were together,

Over ten years ago.


Today we waited hours.

Luckily the rain had stopped.

But the mud was thick like cake mix

And a shot of rum pushed me forward.




Did he see me in the mass of strangers’ faces?

The image of his younger self printed on my t-shirt.

Long hair. A serious half-smile.

His eyes intense 

Yet kind and wise.


Bank holiday. 

The end of August sunshine.


Fingers can’t speak.

But they make otherworldly tapping sounds,

Creating patterns in the snow.


How did you know?


The South West.

White Letters.


On the big blue board.


Concrete bridges lit by orange sunlight.

18:55pm. Crimson sky.



A shade of disappointment.

Satsuma red and sunset tones.

Watercolour streaks in the sky

Stretch like cotton wads.


I see a cloud in the shape of a dragon

Through amber lenses that 

Shield my eyes.