black crow bird
pecks road kill.

pheasant.

haute cuisine.

at the black,
no reflection.

look hard,
small lives,
see the window

crack.
i am not alice.

real jewellery

does not go down.

any more.

everyone wears

this stuff.

they have it in

oxford too,

and have you

got a pound

geoffrey?

walking the wood.

inverary.

burned houses
cannot
be rebuilt.

scotland

tiny wren.
blue hut.

tighnabruaich.

 Your parchesi looks like our ludo. Late up today as was at the theatre last eve with friends and the star was upstaged. Most of the daytime was rain and I wrote stuff. It is good to be different, i like your work.

I like patterns and organising things.

the idea of a book is mine homework……..

i have wood drying yet i admit to buying kiln dried birch logs from the farmers store

cracking good flames

My logs cost £12 for 4 bags and I buy those as  need. My neighbour brought fir logs at Christmas and I have hazel, oak and conifer drying. Keep warm James

 The  photo is from last year, my neighbour’s path. He does not know the flowers and he strims them away. He is a farmer.

I like the salvage yards here and am a frequent visitor.

the tourists ask

what are they using this slate

for

and are puzzled that is is just

rubbish

which slips

mean while
the chaffinch
stays by
the mirror

in scarborough,

we saw richard wilson,

but no one believed us

we looked for god,

in york,

amongst the money changers,

he had gone outside

with the music.

in whitby we played boats,

pirates the next day,

and all the while we were changing,

thinking of herrings,

and eating nuts.

she caught a small thing,

tiny tiny mouse,

ate it,

but the bitter entrails remain.

nasty

she should have let it go.