Monthly Archives: May 2015

. old pots .

old pots are cheaper, chipped,

more attractive in an old place.

we shared them.

plants are more attractive, here

in this old place, run by the man

in the large house.

we shared them.

it was a lovely day, we shared it.

sbm.

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bad hand

it is not his tunnel, and he has

not googled it. the rest of us, mostly

google everything, to find a result.

she talks to me nicely, when i ask

her most things. astonished

when she does not know.

he will get it fixed in rochdale

i went there once

for sunday lunch

on monday.

never mind the predictions,

wait and see.

sbm.

(notes: – a bad hand refered to, when holding a sandwich.)

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traces

move, leave a trace, a gesture.

make a song about the things

that worry.

use your best voice to call

and care.

most things leave a mark, then

the next day we wash and clean.

even then something is missed.

the mark is made.

sbm.

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the rain pours

at sea, it is a squall. i watched

a programme all about dream fish.

we need none.

we have dreamed a while, made a little

garden house, while mrs ciano is safe indooors.

cosy, she is by the old books

of course.

where else would she be,

still the rain pours, a draught

at the window.

sbm.

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rite of spring

during the day, sun shining,

is this spring, or summer

now? clearing the debris,

painting it white.

birds gather, as the

radio plays.

we dance in the greenhouse.

sbm.

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at home

mrs ciano is home, well one of them.

some could say this is a forgery, yet

she was invited, mrs ciano is multiplied,

the answer is clear, may the fourth be

with you today.

we will empty the basket, put our things

back in place. mrs ciano is at home,

today.

sbm.

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mrs ciano

was at the national library of wales,

you know, that big building in aberystwyth,

just after bow street. they have a red carpet on the stairs,

men standing at the base, to guard, to help you.

tie the books in cases, stare at the black book again.

mrs ciano is labelled, and no one looks at her.

there is a castle here, though no one thinks so.

sbm.

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stitching

we will not have blankets,

if there are none, take the old

rags, layer , stitch and stitch

by hand till fingers bleed.

work along the coast

with thread and diligence.

gather wools, layer carefully,

we shall have warmth this winter.

we will have quilts to share.

sbm

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water men and beetles

there are a few, those who should tidy,

those who pump and clear, those who

investigate.

water beetles float their legs, paddle

the river, dimpling surface. hang on

the bridge , warming back and watch.

water men wear high visibility, while

the beetle shines black.

lately we have cut the paths

and planted bluebells.

sbm.

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