Work In Progress

Hopes and Kernels

The sun -
blistering hope springs maternal.

The Colonel of Truth slaps down
a quivering bleached-white poppy,
recalling his act of Remembrance
last Sunday
roast
in Yorkshire – Pud –
-sey;
buds open inside his dry mouth
giving him a piece of peace.
Hope springs internal.

His mother’s hands spread a cloth
dotted with hand-painted Yorkshire puds
around his shoulders where she found him
in Hope Springs Recovery Centre,
Chesterfield.