Uk
Who can argue with the woman
Who saw Christ in a slice of Mother’s
Pride, his beard and aquiline nose
branded into the hot crust?
I certainly cannot dispute
that pigeons were particularly
glittery this morning, that buses arrived
like warm thoughts
and as people flowed through gates and doors, their breath
rose in haloes, quavering
I drained my skinny latte
in the hustle of the service station
I only had to look:it was all there.
These are just some of precious
Things that give me joy,
It’s just like I belong there
In lovely state Uk
