It's old hat
like dangling participles.
Must of been in a Fowler mood.
I was waiting
at that cafe with the thick carpets.
Muddy sand amid a sea of brooms,
candles and ethnic smoke.
When I was a lad
we often travelled
by motorless caravan.
Grandfather kept a horse on the meadow,
rotated his rubber tires.
It was only a few miles to the coast,
conversing in a language I knew.
by Colin James