Jas talks jazz
And carried on the wind
Miles Davis blows blue
My brother arrives
His car is shiny and clean
Till the bird flies by
We ask if he would like lemons
And perhaps some eggs
He smiles and says yes
I notice
Our teenage neighbour who mows the grass
Then stops and waves
There’s a smell in the air
Faint
It’s coming from the fence line
Brimming with jasmine