wild red streaks on a pastel sky hang over Lidl, for the bagels
wind biting down by the river sunlight on the wing tips of a gull
mud frozen hard the path a cloud of steam rising round an old man’s head
across the street blue xmas lights flash a moth in the slats of the blind
his eyes droop against the way the rain runs down the window, morning train
too cold for sketching the line of oystercatchers suddenly rising
