Another correct map

From the tube station, exit left to the High Road. Pass the fruit and veg stand. They are already selling daffodils and the asparagus looks fresh. Turn up the High Road, cross, and cross, to where the bicycles stand. Stop. Turn ahead. Wait for a break In traffic. (I have seen people and cyclists hit.)

On a traffic island halfway across High Road, evening

It’s been a year, Yet your presence lingers in strangers who cross the road towards me. — In a quest to educate myself and use my time more constructively I’ve scheduled reading before bedtime. In addition to poet and writer Salena Godden’s memoir, Springfield Road, and Daniel Kahneman’s Thinking Fast and Slow, I’ve been reading

Black coats, black pavements, black umbrellas, the rain

“Kirchner 1913 Street, Berlin“. Licensed under Public domain via Wikimedia Commons. John Keats wrote his famous ode ‘To Autumn‘ on the 19th of September 1819. This partially inspired my poem posted this time last year. (This year, we are enjoying a generous bolt of extended warmth. The colder snap is still to come.) “Autumn’s ripened harvest store” offers