he is splitting logs & sawing

in the sun

they will go at the back where the wind

blows round

kenny says they take years to dry

he knows his stuff

i broke the mower & have two

strimmers that work

cut the paths

tenderly leaving the flowers to grow

we try not to go out here bank holiday

week ends

so a rest indoors now

with

ARTURO MARQUEZ – DANZÓN Nº 2; GUSTAVO DUDAMEL
in blue writing

as if

it is important

you see

sbm.

over the lane

i watched him varnish his duck

while

previously he had fired up a chain saw

ready

we imagined he will cut the legs off the

taller one

two ducks in a row

were gathering dust at the bottom of the

stairs

will now decorate the garden

we discussed the date and laughed about

star wars

together

the others came up the rise and spoke yet

they do not know me

sbm.

we opened the door, closed a while and found the old nails

ancient rusty loved them kept them for the ages

who else will like rusty nails?

well

he did those huge hand made ones from the garden

it has been a long time coming

it lasted many years now is gone

all of it

all the straight ideals and weathered work.

who will come laughing now who else loves rusted nails & reddened eyes?

plans change

partially due to the weather

state of the roads

is that blood on the towel dear

or is it rust?

they may like us to dance

twice

louder, a chance

to

face up

to smile

we have always danced

it is a family

trait

look sideways

think lateral

forget the emerald

and dance

looking the other way

mainly

assemblage & photograph – sonja benskin mesher

it started that day at brondanw

i saw you fallen

&

photographed you

took you to be stitched

yet could not save you

nor

any of them

you are a metaphor for death

the word fallen is used

when they were pushed

while those at home made bandages

it is a clear word

as water pure and bouncing

off rocks

a bird

or

messing about

remembering #

days mud building dams

fighting the tide

pushing back years

running the path

fighting for freedom

then it comes

unexpected

like

the lark

bird

having written of the hour,

move on when all is lost.

the days remain

timeless.

today, we walk the woods,

back home.

i work in bala

i work in dinas

work at home

yesterday

we delivered to betws

y coed

hotel was stuffy & too much meat

while the train was more like it

we find there are too many monkeys in betws

y coed

1

well

your dad

inside something turns

when i see his mallet

still

with the blue tape

i had best

take a photograph

of dad’s mallet

now

so you can see the handle taped

it seemed ok at that time

the sounds he made

& that particular face.

think of it now/skin crawls

in prison

guilty as charged

some historic things

u3a

art group

she gave has an a4

white paper

to crumple

smiling

it is a shame i shall miss the discussion next month