Monday 22nd March


A skinny Blue man,
In a thin White hat,
Stops to talk to a crying woman,
His eyes are Black as glass,
He walks with a rhythm,
Like his ears are the only ones who can hear the music


Sunday 21st March


A rubbish truck pulls up,
The sun comes out,
Expensive pushbikes are chained to street signs,
A serious woman stops,
Turns to face the sun,
Glances at me then sends a message