17 AUGUST 1991, Page 26

Warning

There is a brain tumour loose in the land.

Early this summer I watched the ceanothus Forming tiny stars, sketched in black ink Like a meticulous message: Think neatly.

June and July stammered in hectic syntax, Shouted in orange and purple; now the sweet peas Have taken wing up the flint wall, and we settle For the green of high summer, waiting for the flush And the first headaches. High in the brilliant sky A cloud explodes. Tissues are swollen with growth.

Three of my friends have died. A fourth is shuffling Through the streets of Bath, talking to ancient Romans, Looking for lost silence among the monuments.

Winter will tidy everything away.

Laurence Lerner