a small village, mayhap a hamlet, named,

one forgets the rules with all that has happened.

domestics done, we walk over to buy two pots

of pansies, a pound for both , money for charity.

nice to be out, to see the neighbours’ houses,

to see what has changed while i have been working.

not much.

late light brings photographs, wandering the graveyard,

yew berries abound. bird bones ready to gather, to box.

i thought of your disorder.

did you leave your hat?

sbm.