He picks up speed

As the yews form a tunnel of

scatter shade to broom through.


Chaws on a biltong.

Swigs a Sierra Mist.


Unnoticed,  there's half a pigeon corpse 

on his bonnet, as he taps

the wheel to Heart FM 

 
On his driveway, 

he breathes in spring.

Looks around

School kids skipping.


He can't wait for recycling day

His bin is almost full.