This is my morning meditation
My slow slow body, and my slower mind
Awakening
With this pencil
To capture
The sprinkled water flowing
Onto the flagstones
Onto the concrete
Pavements
Unloaded
From my father's lorry
To the workmen
The navvies
By the roadside
With their bright brazier
Their enormous
Frying pans
Chock full of eggs and bacon
Here only to do
What he had to do
To feed the kids
To stay above
The breadline
To retain a sense of worth
His morning meditation
To fill up
The forty-gallon diesel tank
With a coughing and a turning
Of the key; then to say
All and every day; it is, and was, always about me
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