poetry on the canal..

Scarlet red geraniums                                         on my kitchen windowsill

Papery leaves straggling                                   the pungent crushed scent in my hands

A meeting, a recognition                            Loosely nurtured likewise                                    on a barge roof in the morning sun                   the colour calling in greeting

A bee winding a flight path                        between the two                                        Buzzing with thought

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