Vegan Spread by Patricia Walsh

Hanging from windows, a shapeless testimony

of what is to be, a rainbow achieved.

Monuments in black and white, still defeat

warning over tiredness, staid in motion.

 

The outside flowers tended to occasionally,

lurch over the sill, a familiar song

not tied to origin, names, addresses

just background scent, overpowering, clean.

 

Consistently early, to joy of my betters

slipping to sleep at the crucial moment

self-definition to plump up the numbers

an open book, ennui, waiting to die.

 

Pouring feasts, reconstituted coffee, cordial,

free drinks to loyal customers

in return for inspiration, hard to come by

in this tragedy of errors.

 

Some colourful greenery bedecks the street.

For this time of year, a child I knew

the dull water passing below head, a tired testimony

to all that is in motion, pitted against boredom.

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