Hamish Campbell took to the fields,
churned up the rich earth with his Father’s spade
in hope of finding a ripe diamond or hidden artefact to sell.
Bonnie Trotter stood on a milk crate, just above the sea of pedestrians
in the high street, and wearing her rosewood dress and lemon sash,
she sang for a sixpence.
Originally published March 2016
Nesbit and Gibley 