All back to Asselega’s place

If it is possible to be haunted by a place, then I think that I am. In this case it is Ashley Vale in Bristol – an exceptional urban oasis caught between the tracks, containing allotments, woods, hilltops and a pub next door to a farm.

Wind-whirled in West Dulwich

Yesterday, the St Jude storm sent me on something of a dérive within a small area of Lambeth. There were no trains due to the winds, so instead of standing on Tulse Hill’s platform 1, I made for Brixton, but wanting to avoid the main roads, headed up a road I’d never walked along before.

The Narroways

In you went on foot, down two tight lanes,

ambling, sloping through the allotments,

each earth pocket nailed down like a promise,

with bramble and beanstalk to mark the bounds:

A hundred little empires of roll-ups and potatoes.