Here, the rustle of low blown leaves.
There the hum of distant traffic,
hear the woofer from an upstairs flat.
Bruno barking from the park,
Ramona’s running feet on stairs,
honking horn of a waiting Uber.
A bin van’s reverse warning,
the postman’s singing Wonderwall
a builder’s shouted ‘mornin’ all!’
Shop-shutters shirring up,
a speeding sports car dopplers by,
the morning mothers’ urgent hush.
Birdsong bursts from bare-branched trees,
brakes screech in deep discord,
the sirens call, with the ship-wrecked on board.