Four huge dogs snarling

Four huge dogs snarling
outside the retail park, on
the edge of the town.

Friday, five o'clock

Friday, five o'clock,
a group of mates down the pub
beats floods, beats car bombs.

The water subsides

The water subsides;
Sheffield gets over the flood,
I, my hangover.

The flooded city

The flooded city
wrings itself out, and we step
gingerly to pubs.

From dry hills we watch

From dry hills we watch
the streets of the city floor
slosh like washbasins.

Wind, rain, cooking stew

Wind, rain, cooking stew
and dumplings. Shut my eyes, it
could be November.

The black and neons

The black and neons
of a sluggish late train, then
the blue of your car.

Cooling towers' curves

Cooling towers' curves:
accidental beauty like
lit-up broken glass.

Comfort in darkness

Comfort in darkness,
bitterness, burn. This is a
perfect pint of stout.

Hanging out washing

Hanging out washing
takes more time and effort than
writing a haiku.

Left on my sloped road

Left on my sloped road,
a mound of sand. Rain makes it
a brown glacier.

Between the curtains

Between the curtains
a shard of contraband gold,
smuggled by streetlights.

Stressed about work, I

Stressed about work, I
watch a cat across the road
scratch behind her ear.

Five hundred metres

Five hundred metres
high on Mam Tor yesterday;
flat and low today.

Two, four, six, eight, ten

Two, four, six, eight, ten
muddy bootprints on the stile:
my friends and blessings.

Three days of rain and

Three days of rain and
just before the clouds break, the
windscreen wiper breaks.

Nothing for ages

Nothing for ages
then a walk in the park and
haiku fall from trees.

The instant between

The instant between
lightning and thunder is filled
with wasted sirens.

Five in the morning

Five in the morning,
awoken by heavy rain,
not really minding.

A Monday mantra

A Monday mantra
for the day's short pilgrimage:
bread, tea, milk and beans.

Sunday, buying veg

Sunday, buying veg
in Nether Edge. Everyone
relaxed and smiling.

The moment you find

The moment you find
the perfect present makes sense
of shopping and life.

The vet's waiting room

The vet's waiting room:
cats in two carry-cases
sing a prison blues.

Waiting for a bus

Waiting for a bus,
I gather my thoughts, and then
scatter them again.

Waiting for the storm

Waiting for the storm,
there goes the warm crackle as
stylus meets vinyl.

The driver of the

The driver of the
dustbin lorry down our street
would thread needles well.

You curl up and sleep

You curl up and sleep
after exams: I forget
we're in our thirties.

There is the squirrel

There is the squirrel
and there's the look on your face
watching the squirrel.

Blue house on Carr Road

Blue house on Carr Road
briefly makes invisible
my blue plastic bag.

When you're fourteen months

When you're fourteen months
old, like our visitor Sam,
stairs are amazing.