A bafflement of carrier bags in the corner shop.
Peeling goalposts on what I took to be a swamp.
Wolves that slink through the dusk the streetlights
recast as pet dogs. Gunshots are fireworks
and the lime-green depth charges of summer
are horse chestnuts ripening under my balcony.
Amongst cubist monuments, apartment blocks,
light spills from doorways, crackling radio voices.
A kitchen chair left out on the pavement
as if for a tired passer-by. Tilted stones
cracked open by weather extremes.
Magpies squatting rooftops. A look of home.