In The Shadows Of The Trees by Andy Millican
A double row of now mature trees squeezed
in neatly ordered lines form a rich green
border by the city centre car park.
Long scraggy grass chokes the spaces between
them, the two foot elevation means he’s
not easy to spot among the rich dark
canopy presumably he calls home?
It looks like his domain, is he alone?
His hammock hangs from two broad sycamores.
He sleeps there, smokes there, dreams of pure white sand,
blue seas, a cloudless sky, a distant coast.
There is nothing else in his life he cares for
than an endless supply of best gangja.
When his next smoke is, that troubles him most.