Monthly Archives: December 2018

.utility mark.

dave asked about the utility bell, and war time candles,

following the wax theme, yesterday. i got my household

ones, 5 hours burning time, yet to be proved. they offered

me dinner candles, but i had leftovers ready, so kept quiet

on that score.

anyway, dave, over here, we had rationing as you know,

which continued afterward. things had to be simple,

saving stuff and time, and had a mark like two hungry birds.

mum bought the utility bell in woolworths, from the flat counter,

simple cut out metal, good colour, much valued in those days,

alongside papery chains and lanterns.

our tree had candles, i do not know when lights began,

i still have her candle ends left, fancy twisted, faded now.

i keep them special, use the newer ones , red and plain, and

remember my mum,

i will scan these to show you dave, later.

it is still raining.

.learning to fly 2.

ran out yesterday

lost you completely with the pattern in the sky

the leaves on the oak

on the mountain. i lost you

you left the group

took off and flew

flight was not sustained

hovering over past demeanors

faltered

landed carefully

in disappointment hugging

affirming it did not matter

yet it did

. tiny things.

it is the little things that excite so

in the height of summer low look for seeds

small flowers studded in hedgerows

dry stone walls

our lane remains dusty, unmade.

3.

what you see is magnified.
they leave here larger than life
petrified in their own forests.

scan beds and lens.

light the boxes.
tie the books closed, leather
bound

broken,

words lost.

boxes can be opened to
reveal.

4.

tiny things become intimate

.learning to fly.

they left the group

took off and flew.

flight was not sustained.

hovering over past demeanours

faltered, landed carefully

in disappointment, hugging,

affirming it did not matter.

yet it did.

.gender.

woke,

not knowing the day.

i blame the varnish!

like a ghost in the night,

man handled by friends…..

.again.

the

again brings a sense

of permanence

while

familiarity did not breed

contempt

after dinner she went to church

where

she laughed shamefully

.trail.

the sight is disgusting

to the last degree

blind horse

liver sauce on fish

they turn the hay

eighteen

times