Published in Hearing Aid, July 2018.
Backwards clock: lost midnight, seven
slipped into six and a cider-sun dawn.
Sunday spread its sticky glaze, an orchard
of longing holding onto the g
so it was long ging like a slug
from a Lilt can, crinkled
around the edges of a single use barbeque
burning in sand dunes and samphire reeds
until a foxtail flashed, and snuck back
into the fleeting catacombs of dusk.