another day of vinegar soaked
words.
another play on keys, as we drift
through winter days.
curtains dragged across the gloom,
early, yet while light lingers later,
we wander to the snowdrop drift, hear
the last bird call.
hear the dog at pentre farm, barking.
later hear the water fall from
broken drain pipes.
soon it is february, lighter
nights.
sbm.