Hoping we'd remain
The night was proper June at last, balmy
the sun still high, blue sky
swifts wheeled squealing.
I made a fan, creasing the paper place mat
for a small current of air. So still the night unbreathing,
the month's moon full for solstice, midsummer
and in France la fête de la musique
songs in the street
friends in English, German, French, Rumanian
hoping we'd remain, part of the project
imperfect, but surely people of Britain, you of good heart
tolerant historically, and still,
a vision to aspire to
ideals to make us proud?
June 22nd 2016, Hounoux
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