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.