I love poems that grow br out of themselves br out of nowhere really br br like an empty window-box br you’ve cleared, but haven’t br any plans for and one day br br some seed from br some bird and br some meal br somewhere br br settles in and look br yellow courgette flowers br sprawling delicately br all over the garden path br br poems that grow from br a random glance br like someone gives you br a useless present and br it asks to be told its story br br poems that grow from that br patch of waiting soil br in the heart saying br there’s always something br to surprise, to please when br there’s earth and water br there, br and warmth.