bursts of happyfizz when I remember

The older boy catches on. He points at the cup the smallest boy is drinking from. His mother takes him by the hand back over to the water fountain, asks him where he got his cup from. He points up to the clean ones perched on the top of the fountain. Far up above him. She looks at the dirty cups piled up in the bin next to them. She takes his cup from him, gets him a clean one.

Lyndhurst

gossip and elderflower cordial in the coffee and chocolate shop

On route

A hut (eggs and bacon, toasted cheese sandwiches, burgers) next to the fishing ponds down a long bumpy track. We chat about our day. Two teas, a bench, peace. Later, the tea lady brings us the property pages from her paper, passes them over the fence.

being a therapist

hour after hour of how difficult and how marvellous it is to be alive

tippety tappety tippety tap

Littlewick show, in the vegetable tent

cake in the shape of a gammon steak

three cabbages, bigger than you could imagine

a dried-out film of cranberry

the glass waits to be clean

rain falls on the skin of the pool, on the red umbrella of the determined swimmer

condensation blooms on the panes: a dying orchid, dust, a dreaming cat

who will feed these birds when I'm gone?

the wind in the far trees ROARS

gulp-gulp-gulp

peach squash

not the right landlord for us

'cats can climb up drainpipes, can't they? i don't want cat-flaps in my doors. here, they could jump out of this first floor window onto the garage roof...'

seconds of tart plums from france with biscuity buttery crumble

she holds the tears back until we get into the car

orchid

the deep pink alien flowers fall off one by one

lost day

tea-spoon in wine glass: a makeshift standing bell

tipped-over-when-tired redbush tea leaves a rosy blush on the carpet

dandelions

rectangle petals with zig-zag tips, the field a galaxy

sharing a baked banana:

unctuous chocolate ooze

puk

the voice of a blue plastic cup set down on this foot-worn ancient stone step

six tubes of silver mournfully pealing in the wind

Caroline's bread spread with ginger marmalade

(extra love kneaded in)

we drive until

the lonely-

pain of being-

with-people-

too-much

drains

away

on a small shelf in the kitchen, a sprouted potato in the shape of a heart

red car through yellow-green fennel, taller than a man

Noirlac Abbey

all this stone, and these spaces are lighter than air

pairs of red-black stripy beetles making replicas

Flat on my back, earth offers me

this patch of gold-spotted field

to hold my body safe as we spin

at tremendous speed...