Coram’s Fields

10 am

A man with a dozen yellow tulips
is reading the notice board on Emerald Passage:
Mila Campnoy from the Calthorpe Institute
will talk about Flowers & Their Uses.

He thinks about going and meanwhile
the yellow of his February tulips
is making the man at Bikefix sing
a small repairing song.

11 am

At Kennard's Good Food this morning
they're stacking the shelves with honey,
with jars of Tasmanian Leatherwood
and Active Manuka—

and a large, delirious bee
has dived into acres of snowdrops
on the pavement outside Dawson Flowers
like his own private miracle.

12 noon

The cat who's fast asleep
in the window of Matchless Prints
twitches his ears whenever
they open a tin of tuna

at Rita's Sandwich Bar across the street,
where two white slices side by side
are freshly opened pages
in the book of Tuesday.

1 pm

When a man on his way to lunch
stops on the corner of Great Ormond
and waves 'after you' at a car,
the driver flashes her lights

and waves 'after you' at him.
So they laugh at each other and smile
keeping the space between them wide open
in a long, slow moment of giving way.

2 pm

On the corner of Mecklenburg & Heathcote
a woman is calling a name to an open window.
In one long easy breath she floats it up
like an arrow at the top of its flight.

The trees in St George's Gardens
tremble their leaves to the ground
and everyone comes to their window
except for the person she's calling.

3 pm

Over a pint at The Duke
the man who puts a paper dart
through the letterbox of the Brazilian
Aeronautical Commission in Europe,

and famously showed the Egypt Exploration Society
how Wilson, Kepple & Betty used to dance,
is teaching the lunchtime barmaid how to land
a skittish Fairey Seafox on the Nile.

4 pm

From the window of Griffith & Partners
The Grammar of Japanese Language
has opened the wings of its cover
and flown like an origami blackbird

to the branches of bonsai trees
in Brownlow Mews. Each evening
it sings haiku from the leafy pages
written by Tatui Baba in 1904.

5 pm

In a space between the song of three robins
on a bench in Saint George's Gardens
I'm waiting for you to arrive. Whatever
it is that's delayed you, I don't mind—

I'm happy to watch a small gap in the clouds
opening wider and wider. I can sit here quietly
by the Thomas Falconer Obelisk
for as long as it takes.