t

I strode Heathgate, Gurney, Ketts

strode Britannia, Mons, Gilman, Gertrude

in the fierce sunshine

and there were huge strawberry plants

seemed taller than I was

and bending under their own weight

heavy with red fruit

brushing against my face

and I picked several large berries

and ate them hungrily

my chin stained red with

dripped brooks of sticky juice

and I passed you some feet ahead

at the foot of a limestone promontory

which we slowly ascended

a natural beauty spot

of coarse grasses

abutting through the cracks

the rock

a piled cairn

an elevation above the city

that doesn’t exist

a rough track

a small bridge over a dried up ford

hints of an industrial infrastructure

sealed mineshafts

rusted machinery

and we slowly ascended and sat

in the gravel and ate

the strawberries quietly and it

was wonderful and also

a dream.