winter light leaves
round the bend trees bears golden,
the horse chestnuts lose first.
bus in front turns left, I slow, drive home.

my photograph is buried it in damp earth.

light leaves.

your writing delights
in the latter sparseness

the initial intensity

i enjoy reading it
coming to life
before me

beside me the window open
an owls sounds
yet no lorries
on the road yet

remember and

we touch the wall
where the car crashed
that time back
remember how he died
how my friend tried to
help

so we carry on

the verdict was guilty
i came home feeling
so
that we fail folk

that we need to think deeper
other than we always have

she said it has always been done like that
even though that is not the way folk speak
now

even though it is just a book edited and words
deleted

we drank coffee and talked some and then
went home

we were thanked

we were not required

yes something feels different

that day in february

last

the day as hot as summer

the sea by there as still as

i have never seen before

transfixed

while some cooed with delight

at their luck with such a grand

day

research started two hundred years

ago

yet what do i know

except it feels different

and the rug no longer on the cellar

floor

so we carry on

we had snow yesterday

and while all stopped still

in that valley

here we were fine

and carried on

a good start to the day

strong signal

good music

yet i can’t spell it

other people use cliches

repeat what they hear

brainwashed

some just laugh at it all

i laughed at the podcast

two guys from america

explaining rhyming slang

from cockney land

changes

to language

an example gone awry

was apples and stairs

left me weak

& happy

here we have seven dangers

to life flood warnings

while johnson made no difference

by visiting

the water did not recede

waters have their own way

as does fire

some doubt climate change

despite the science

she says we shall have sunny spells

& i go to the cinema

a proper saturday

on top there was snow here early

then the sun came

&

we have a golden day

erasing any white

therefore

elsewhere there were floods

boys rode through on bikes

and i think of you

the bravery

who knows what lies underneath

here the land goes up and down

water drains

into rivers

lakes

&

cellars

soon is gone

with the morning

so much recovered

we carry on

we have learned many ways

that may be the thing to do

& i too

may need to get over it

there is agreement here
on the placing of words
where they fall

i too worry over spelling which came
contagious this week

it rains and the christmas lights
were turned on in leeds the radio
says

one place i have not visited

it rains here and i am all a fiddle with
new devices
that set my brain in motion

to think of logic
when it feels like nothing
is at all
logical

when inclusion
excludes

when you sit here
when you may as well sit there

yet i make no fuss
remain the quiet one

not many flowers here now
yet i stood transfixed under the oak
as the leaves dropped down

my personal golden shower

noticed the apples are gone
all of them from the smaller
tree
i ate them
pippins

there is a severe rain warning
while the gardener is sheduled

what to do?

yes music touches the keys
fingers pound and yes one pair
is red
the other neutral
for a more serious
look

mine are bifocal
and can distort gently
if i concentrate poorly
on the centre

i have had help a while
grateful at least that i can
see
unlike some of my family

i go annually to mid wales
to walk a while, boardwalk
across the bog preferably
alone

air above, below water and earth
words to come
sometimes gentle
sometimes not

sad today
it has been a long way
this way
am sad for others