One is at a party on old streets in Amsterdam,
her face highlit in glitter mask;
rousing with her friends, the gloaming laced by lamps, their
glows like candles lit to joy
One is in those Wembley crowds – to celebrate
and sing, to roar our tribe’s return;
he shares a bond through harmony, an affirmation
of this autumn’s coming home
One is scouting puffins on the Orkneys’ outer rocks
where they built and reeled at festival; stepped back
since cycling down the Danube from its sources to the sea –
on their way to somewhere new
Move on up…
Maintain the Advance! 