October sun

October sun on a London street.
Time has slowed to the eleven o'clock elasticities;
Cars and people trickle past.
I walk slowly enough to let the sunshine
Stick to my face.

All is brick and stone,
Tar and concrete,
Stasis and order.

Overhead
The distant ocean of blue sky foams with cirrus
And a bird swings on a lone trapeze of air.

Along a dark crack in the pavement
Yellow fingers of light draw three lone blades of grass
Up to the autumn air.

They shine with impossible tenderness of green
Against the grey hard stone.

I watch them nodding deferentially
As I pass.

(c) A McN