Victorian Pub –
Stories stored in its timber ~
Nice curve on that bar.
Opening a book –
Your city, coming to life ~
The world entire.
Sandcastles, hailstones – All the crabs are dead ~ bar one – Shelly Rathmullan.
Pittosporum scent – Exceeds all else, as night falls ~ The light from the fire.
Stephen’s fleeting blooms – Passed over since the picture ~ Birdsong persisting.