a wasp hovers
close to my right ear
I feel draught from his wings
don’t move, keep reading, he lands
Last leg of a trip from Western Australia to West Wales. Rucksack and battered sun hat though it was February, on a train lurching its way through Llanelli.
‘Excuse me but I’ve gorw say,’ the only other traveller, she sat across the aisle, ‘I’ve gorw say your socks, your socks are really cool.’
I knew I was home.