Imagine

Just imagine if the rain did not stop

I would  float through life like a shadow

glide down a ribbon of light to the shops

I would enjoy going to work in my canoe.
Rye Lane Peckham would be my Amazon.

Like a modern hunter gatherer

I would paddle to Morrisons

to scan its watery aisles for treasure.

No clock but dawn would draw me from my bed.

With my lethal blow-pipe or dart gun

I would haunt the tributaries of Nunhead

Hunting for dinner – dangerous but fun.

To perfect my journeys, a new craft

her planks bent to the shape of my dreams.

She would be sleek and graceful, not like a raft

flit like a kingfisher down narrow streams.

Smoothed like glass with sandpaper and plane

she would be the turquoise queen of the rain.