You said not to hate winter -
to put up with shivering showers,
to relish churlish winds,
stand up to influenza's grip,
feel free in trussed up clothes
– you said not to hate a thing.

This summer camping in Calais –
the rain rattling on the van roof,
the west wind funnelling furiously
down the Channel, I leaning into it
as I went to get fresh bread for breakfast;
and on Flanders roads, the sight of my umbrella
soaked on the van's rusty floor,
the sound of wipers wearing down,
and through the glass the constant grey of flat sky
– how I loved everything!