There’s a grand stretch in the evening.
The trees sway in summer breeze.
A queen bee is surveying the honey crop
Nearby children chalk out some fun.
The adults cooking and drinking some.

The city park is a beating heart with games a foot.
A motorcycle exhaust echoes against the dry buildings.
A distinctive hollow to the traffic in the simmer of sunset
Chatter of some girls passing by – “hello” one said to me – I unprepared!
Looking back at me with a twinkle in her eye.

A nearby pub is serving streetside.
Heineken gazebo shades them all in green.
While they surf and turf by the roadside.
They laugh at almost everything.

When was your first summer holiday?
He said to her – a cold pint in his hand.
“I’m not sure” – as a passing bus breaks her memory
“Corfu in ‘82 – oh wait ..no! it was Malaga before that with my mother”
He smiles at her – mentally dusting down some old photos

Shading her eyes with a cupped hand she looks up at him
“Do you fancy another?”– “I” “yes, make it a gin!”
“A double? “I.. yes… Why not!”
“There’s a grand stretch in the evening”