watching moments
recalling then writing

sharing them across the world

i hope his finger survived

people eat them i hear
here i would not

not now

i write in places
where no one comments
yet i have found that friends
read it quietly
and smile

they tell me

and if no one came
it would remain the same

in time to the music
the pattern
the pulse


which slow sometimes
when we give way

it was a pleasant day yesterday
there was drizzle and wild flowers

the garage fixed the wheel
and changed my seat configuration
as always

they are taller than me
most are

the gas man came as i was fiddling
with it
and helped

he always does
a kind man
who retires next april

looks young to me

crumbs in the keyboard
dust on the screen

dry day
to hang the washing