‘Oooooh!’ ‘wooosh!’
‘Look at you!’ A
grandmother neighbour
greets her family
in the street outside
my house.
Laughter percolates
towards my bedroom
window. I hear the pause
of hugs exchanged.

On the café table
next to me, two
cashmere women
discuss a favourite
dancing show, the merits
of the ‘last man standing’,
the northern darling, the
East end lass, the tinkling
delight of little girls
let loose in dressing up
clothes. I feel their
inner twirling.

Returning from a
conference, three women
(unusual in Eurostar
Standard Premier class)
tease a colleague. Tall
tales, tender taunting,
their warm laughter
embraces the whole
carriage, washes me
with gladness.

We are a humanity of
constant hopes and tears,
and yet in streets, and
trains and
public places, there is,
it seems,
for a moment,
more than enough
joy to go round.