Wicker pinned against one

bedroom wall

 

Flashes of Bradford and Ashrams

recalled

 

Childhood salads of

grated Carrots and Apple

 

Baked Potato and Cheese

the smell of spices

and the flap of flairs

 

As people pass to go

to satsan

 

I sit in the kitchen

and play with my

Bond car

 

They Sing and meditate

I roll rubber wheels

in circles on lino tracks

 

And Chase baddies

while they chase

White light