You could see the unexpected humidity
in the weep of the trees
almost a rainforest drip in the woods of Sussex
and being tall I had to dip to avoid
the damp stroke of lime leaf on my neck
that of a sweated relative
or grease-ball teacher.
Underfoot the cinder path was an equal impact
on memory as I lugged my groceries
back
back to
that playground in Surrey which grazed kids
and scuffed the sandals
a home to sparkled
stones and shiny ants
and games of ball
chase
kisses
and secret skipping songs of girls.