I went in search of nature recently
and found moss on concrete
weeds between paving stones
flowers in boxes and bins
trees in squares growing under gravel.
There was something beautiful about the glass towers and brick buildings,
in the messy humans who cycle on pavements,
the woman I thought was a nun but was just wearing a white cap under a black hoodie
even the ratty dog desperate to break free
or the man with the grey face or the girl with green hair.
Much pointed me back the way I had come
The roads all curving to home
I wanted to follow
The notifications calling
We used to be chased by tigers and bears
Now it’s our inboxes
and silly jobs with silly titles
And there I am back at the football pitch again
The ball making that sound as it rattles off the fence
I worry they'll think I'm weird
Coming back for a second look
But it's a different group and I suddenly realise
A different pitch
Different benches under blossoms by a different church
Wandering on and on and on
The scent of grass and growth in my nose.
Then I know where I am and the branches lean through gaps in iron fences
It's a conditional love affair, London.
The best place to be and the worst.