honk if you've drunk from Kenny's cornucopia.
invisible harmonic rain
bows arc beyond
our ken a whinny
of despair to crack panes
we're up to our knees
in breeze buckled echoes
of Schumann & wondering
how you say
flugelhorn in German
it can get through the hedge
without rustling
& flick a little ripple
in your lake
Norfolk January 2010