It was the third day of rain:
we started hunting for doves
and acacia wood
A pool deepened outside the house,
and ducks sheltered below leaves
at the water’s edge
We paired off and found high ground –
a nest on a muddy path
beside a waterfall
Different kinds of ships
were painted on the walls,
but none of them seemed big enough
There was some brightness in the distance,
and we voted to leave or remain:
the skies darkened again
This was written a few days before the fateful EU referendum, as we sat in a summer house at Sandringham, sheltering from a downpour.