TUESDAY 23
Poets sitting on
the terrace sing ‘Blue Moon’ and
lament a lost friend.
WEDNESDAY 24
A power cut, a
minute long, then lights come back,
alarms sound outside.
THURSDAY 25
On the bus, someone’s
phone plays the start of the theme
from Jean de Florette.
FRIDAY 26
The man on the cheap
cosmetics stall tells me my
bag is a Tardis.
SATURDAY 27
Petals downed by rain,
lilac on the ground below
spidery seed heads.
SUNDAY 28
In a charity
shop window a sign says none
of this is for sale.
MONDAY 29
Someone has propped an
umbrella in a parking
space. ‘Not mine,’I say.
Seventeen 