Stuart Miller-Osborne

Late of New York  New in Paris  She was planning adventures  In her City of Roses

Our new neighbour arrived yesterday  In the apartment that faced our own  It was a hot Paris afternoon  Marie-Angela and I were sitting near the window  Our neighbour introduced herself as Nikki She was an American from New York  It was agreed that we should dine together  When the sun was low and the air cool …

My wife has a strange name Lime Water and Grass She often spends hours  Weaving soft velvet glass

We used to walk barefoot Along dusty paths And swam across rivers  Ignoring the bridge We sunbathed naked  In fields of long grass And feasted on cherries  From an iced water glass

It had been a Thursday Unlike any other You were walking around With little or nothing on And called this small cottage Your Rohmer house After the film maker Cool grey flagstones A wooden table Black coffee Novalis open by a window That shared its situation The air is already warm I could hear the…

I collected sea glass shells and stones  Near the surface of the tidal pool  It was a peaceful day That faded into a complete silence 

It was warm when I arrived  And grew hotter as the day matured I felt that the sun was following me  Across the slow sands of the beach 

Whilst walking on a beach  Under a cerulean sky I closed my eyes  For a just a blink And mistook it for July 

The Green Train  Is a familiar sight Once a hour  Twice at weekends  Little changes  Under the ancient ruins Of the castle  On the hill

Letters from a non-stop city Likenesses from home  In a few hours  I will begin to travel once again It has always been about the journey