1.56pm.
Saturday, the first full day of May’s primary bank holiday weekend;
I am dreaming of strawberry ice-cream,
ruby-studded, demure spoonfuls
pooling into pink
As my hand warms up stainless steel,
blood-heat radiating from neck to head.
The European heatwave has everything coloured-in:
Coal wisps rise and waft from some neighbouring barbeque
Swirl through the air like a matador’s cape
And, lo, there is so much surging Sun.
