Lunchtime recital (on full pay)

My mid-May midday errand to the Post Office completed
I saunter back to work down St Aldates’ easy decline
turn right into Brewer Street
deliciously deserted
and adrift from linear time
the only modern give-aways
a circled A for Anarchy! scrawled on an ancient wall
and a pair of double yellow lines
escorting the tarmacadam canal
that stretches, with the confidence of a well-kept secret,
all the way to St Ebbes

I change down yet another gear
from saunter now to dawdle
the skiver’s glint atwinkling in my eyes
the honeyed sun humming through the skin upon my skull
and suddenly!
from an open window above the entrance to Campion Hall
a harpsichord’s rising thrill
ripples out into the street like an alchemist’s playful spell

I stop beneath its joyful source

strike a match to a well-earned cigarette
lean into the limestone wall
an audience of one inhaling it all
until the blood inside my brain begins to sing
and a passing stranger smiles
at my smile
as I smile at hers

Upon such backstreet magic and common kindness
a city’s seasons surely turn