And just as the neighbour

And just as the neighbour

Many floors above,

The Osprey flying over,

Heading for the sea

Where the best fish swim,

Can look down upon it,

A wooden deck,

Once stained and varnished

Cedarwood red

Now painted grey.

A fashionable colour

Very modern

Chic some might say

There is no getting away

From the fact

It is very different.

It could be a wall

Cinderblock

Stucco

Badly rendered brick

Covered to hide the lack

Of quality masonry

Clad with stone or slate

Sandblasted.

For what it is

Is not applicable

As it is how it presents

That seems to matter

And now it is grey

To match the walls

Of other houses.

The man next door

Has already issued a warning

Not to paint the wall

As it belongs to him.

Charming,

How will he maintain its integrity?

Clamber over his garage roof

One more time

As he did before

To clean the gutters

Right in front of me

As I sat with friends

And a Devon cream tea,

Without

So much as a by your leave.

He might

Decide to paint it red

Just for the hell of it

After all

It is his wall

The man many floors above

Will not care

He can just look down

And what he will see

Is a channel of

Light gray

Which reminds him of the

Weather in Bournemouth

And the prevailing colour

Of the sky

It makes him feel at home

In the clouds

Where he can look down

On the Osprey

And the pilots

Of jet aircraft

On low-flying manoeuvres.