I love my country.

I know I complain often, as some do –
of its quiet busyness, of its cramped cities
and I long for that ‘big’ or emptiness of others
I pray for mountains, for sun and for calm
But I am grateful, at least, for my own city
I love the buildings, that ours are older than others
that we have cobbles amongst modernity
that we are lucky, that our country often
does want to care for us, even when
it fails
I appreciate our culture – and others – together. It is true
that we are accepting.

Despite its flaws and its filthiness, our transport is irreplaceable
I can go anywhere – for a price – if I want to get away from here
To see a friend, go home, go to Europe – there is a bus, or a train, or a motorway
and I love our cliffs
our indigenous flowers, our rivers
our manmade canals and the fields
we take for granted. So thank you, England
and thank you Brighton. Though I tire sometimes
and need a break, or to see fresh sights – I can always come back

and I am grateful


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