Trees are broccoli,
Pale soup floods through the mudflats,
This teatime landscape.
Narrow lanes, small minds;
The thatch neglected haircuts
On lairy Young scalps.
The Solent coughs spray;
Waves break like instant coral;
Flags flap like blisters.
Sunshine on white sails
Seduces complacently
With afternoon lies.
London haiku
London’s Pompeii now,
Its denizens vulcanite,
Tube train catacombs.