I look up from the pavement and find myself
at Midhope Street. An unscheduled stop
but as good a point as any to take stock.
The shutters are down at the Cromer Cafe —
no Freshly Cut Sandwiches today.
The Musica Nova Academy doesn’t sing to me.
Balconies, blossom, propped-up motorbikes,
a man unloads a van under the No Through sign.
If we have to see ourselves in a storyline
with an arc from meeting to parting
(I see lobbed grenade rather than rainbow)
where are we on the curve, the rise and fall?
I’ve lost my bearings. Consult the map.
A sharp left is what I need, simple as that.