With almost perfect symmetry little Josh
wants to take some flowers back to Mum.
He plucks from the two Laburnum
grown together over a garden gate;
or the strain of embrace,
stretching… to cleave ?
The scent from the cups is intoxicating,
and yellow… Becky’s colour…
O’ my tyger tree,
will spread that smile
over lips which profess to disdain flowers.
…On the way back Josh has an idea: he wants to visit his Dad.