Climbing on the bus today
I met the happiest man in town
a West Indian ticket collector
in a multicolour waistcoat.
He pointed my way across
Hyde Park while singing
I love you.
I watched umbrellas crowd the wind,
like tortoise shells
bobbing under leafless trees;
their occupants
in gloomy outlook
waiting, waiting,
but still I heard his voice
singing from far away,
I love you.
London 2002
