Nabakov's butterflies ...

I'm reading a foxed Nabakov -

I remember buying it, one hungover Southsea morning -

I'd just eaten scrambled egg and tinned tomatoes with Richard in The Country Pantry -

We'd heard passionate guitars the night before -

Aquacars lingered in the louche street -

Inside the disordered bookshop I imagined I saw butterflies -

Each one carrying a fragile word on its wings -


Tuesday 22 October 2019

The Old School House
East Stoke
Dorset