Last Night – A Poem

by Jo Rowbotham, participant on Writing & Walking Retreat, Summer 2021

Leaving behind
50-miles-an-hour-for-clean-air restrictions
speeding silent blue-light ambulances and a motorway
full of Eddie Stobart and white transit roofers’ vans

Leaving behind
a disharmony of satnavs
leading to a loop of tall hedges
and coming to a harmony of homely houses in
a field of potatoes
with neither lime nor buffalo in sight

Coming to drink from a word-fountain fed by
the springs of amused minds
I slept last night under a waterspout of dreams
sentences stampeding like buffalo
— fluttering like lime-leaves in a rainstorm –
leaving large, soft hoofprints
whose hollows will fill
drop by drop
with the delights of this day.