Or I go in search of it
Then I see a photograph
Of Andrew Miller in a raincoat
He reminds me of a football manager
But I guess he is a writer
I move seats
To look onto the small patch of flowers
The names of which I do not know
Neither can I accurately describe their colours
I can though hear the river
And the partridges calling out
I take six steps
Across the grass
To the cast iron fence (waist high)
I peer over
Down the steep-sided valley
To the right, an old mill chimney, with scaffolding
Happenstance in Heptonstall
Poems Started at Lumb Bank
Arvon 2018
