Y is for yellow sunflowers, stalks straight and faces turned away from someone’s uneven leadlight windows. Also this February the crepe myrtles line a forgotten street with pink, more pink than the dumb old galaxies that no one can breathe in. Z is for zinnias, straight rows and diagonals: strange how colourful regimentation satisfies some people’s need for order. Someone too must enjoy this cactus with its weird spaceship flower. Annoying agapanthus have broken down into their essential elements, designed to spread their kind. While white grevilleas in a disorderly garden untie their compacts, a flow-on of everything we’re given.