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of flash, thud, shudder,
then the wailing...
that's half a young cat's life
Now we're up on the edge
and over, on the mountain
with mountains beyond. Behind us,
in the dark
of the valley, villages are embers
My Gran was a Caribbean ladyAs Caribbean as could beShe came across to visit usIn Shoreham by the sea.
The living room remembers Gran dancing to Count Bessie.The kitchen can still hear my aunts fighting on Christmas Day.The hall is worried about the loose banister.
Nobody knows what Jonjo knows. Nobody knows but he,So Jonjo took me for a walk and showed his world to me.
In our flatfaces speakof places across the sea.
In our flatvoices walk intalking, but not like me.
I spied a small lonely boy.I was his beautiful red balloon,from morning through to noon,