Glitter in the trees
--Jane Yeh 
Glitter in the trees.
Glitter and shadow.  Leaves 
Massing like birds or
Faces, clusters of people passing 
Through the narrow
Streets, full of litter 
And heroes.  A serenade
Of buses down the road 
From the spaceship
Library!  Our incense 
Is the smell of raw chicken
And tilapia in summer, 
Our rough cassavas
Precious gems -- no 
Stopping between the hours of
Primark and Rizla, only dancing 
On a reservoir on top of
The world:  look what 
The cat dragged in.  Oh angels
Of Peckham, from the nail bars 
To the Common, we sweep
Your fiery steps clean.  The 
Clink of glasses
Is found music, a belated 
Poem:  our temple to lager
And order, archive 
Of dogs lost, old
House holding our stories between 
Its boards (please
Respect the neighbours
).  In 
This ragged and ordinary
Palace, our voices merge 
Like rustling leaves.  The way
A dozen tea lights make 
A constellation:  stars
In the dark, our collective dreams.

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