k u .co. mind our y think re #IFeelBetterWhen Say — at a bus-stop, waiting on your own, a day of dulled cloud, almost rain, your mind tuned to an inner moan of life being too much grey, again. And, say, your only company’s a straggling hedge, a litter bin, the road’s dirt edge, some scrubby trees, a cold wind sanding down your skin. But your eye wanders, say, and there’s damp holly, leaves like gleaming glass, wet-bottle-green; its brilliance shares a flash-light quiver in the grass so, looking harder, say, you see a blackbird’s eye, his orange bill deep in the dandelions, three fat daisies, one late daffodil then start to match all this to words, your own to catch, exact – but how? the glittering laughter of the birds? the noise of yellow here and now? The bus turns up. Your mind’s alive – making, remaking: words that sway and dance and shine, and yours to drive forward and eager. Share them, say? D.A. Prince Poetry 82