numbers mix with words

i am returned

it was a pause in proceedings

a breath for continuation into

the season

a sociable hiding

it rained a lot &

i found friends


look out for cors caron

to walk on water, wood

the space between where

words will seep out

walk alone

look out for florida abbey

the woods beyond

the man who talks of moss

touches it gently

i explained about the twigs

a metaphor for kindness, care

remembrance not to overlook

the small things. to treasure

the differences in folk. to treasure

familiarity in that which surrounds us

James. you already know this

perhaps it is i who needed


how are the cats

mine are good

and so is betty

who stayed