Things I’ll miss from Cornwall

Work in progress…

Moon shadows and church bells
-They practice on a Monday evening
Ringing us into the night
with the blackbirds
and the dimming light.
Ringing us into the night
with Lorraine calling home the ‘fucking ducks’
or the ‘fucking dog’

Down
the
lane
home
from
the
pub
I haven’t counted the steps
-I must do that
before we go

April, when the sun arcs high enough for a chair
to be placed for morning coffee in a square
of sun
just a metre wide
and placed beside
the hedge we laid
two years ago
Putting faith in warmth and sap and growth

For this is my Cornwall and this is my home:
a song for the locals
until they are gone.