(Let’s take a walk) Knee-deep in nettles and the weather tipping change – Thick silt raising spirits Beating through the new-grown neural pathways. Footsteps sounding in my shadow Stepping on the heels of a hot new take And ghosts crowding the airwaves. Bike racks Improvised. Steel drum love songs in a counterfeit night The last time – (The last time). Hairstyles may change but the rhythm stays the same – Thames Clippers snake below like something slipping away.

They’ll dig us up in a thousand years And dust off the bone-idle lust: Tripping along the path to the weir Past the bolder-hearted boulders, Down where the agitated sediments Kicked up tea-cup tempests, Stirring sugar sentiments In over-brewed brooding tar pits; But the love-note motes settled finally – Where the boats sit like index fossils, And weathered Wisdom sits weaving A striated riverside history. They’ll build a quarry one day, And with visceral granite s