Sunday, August 31

the Gerbera sends up a third flush of flowers: the shrunken green heads perch on ridiculous fat stems and wait to take on colour

Saturday, August 30

the caterpillars match the green of the broccoli leaves perfectly - it's not enough to protect them from this gardener

Friday, August 29

a glob of foam clings to the rim of the bath and slowly shrinks

Thursday, August 28

on the pavement

scattered pieces of jigsaw, an empty orange Rizla packet, a shard of glass, fallen and trodden-on blooms

Tuesday, August 26

posy: cosmos and lavender

yellow flecks on the ridged white silk, straight stems seen through glass, a cluster of lavender flowers smell of themselves

Sunday, August 24

old tensions find cracks in the veneer during a game of Rummikubs, threaten to errupt

Saturday, August 23

Ventnor Botanical Gardens

Tucked away behind the temperate house, a bench with a brass plaque: HARVEY - A VERY SPECIAL CAT. Underneath it says it just isn't the same without him. The sun beats down.

Friday, August 22

outside tap

washing the crud from the compost bin, I bash the leaves and get a hit of mint

Thursday, August 21

after breakfast

a purple smear of jam on the chipped white plate, dotted with blackcurrant pips like deep sea creatures

Wednesday, August 20

Time for tea

A ring of scale has grown on the red where the kettle meets the lid. In the quiet aftermath of boiling, it ticks.

Tuesday, August 19

The goldfinches always came in pairs to delicately dab at the niger seed. This one comes alone.

Monday, August 18

At the entrance of the probation hostel

She's laden down with hold-alls, a suitcase, plastic bags. She leans towards her friend, who in response reaches behind her to take a firm grip on the back of the waistband of her trousers. The trousers are hoiked up, her pale flesh covered.

Sunday, August 17

a seed lands on my palm

the plump oval centre is luminous orange, wrapped in a papery husk like a UFO

Saturday, August 16

a glass of water on the window-sill brandishes a full hand of garden spinach

Friday, August 15


Crested Screamer
Boobook Owl
Greater Necklaced Laughing Thrush
African Spoonbill
Silver Pheasant
Lilac-breasted Roller

White-bellied Go-away Bird!
White-faced Whistling Duck!

Thursday, August 14

"Go quietly, quietly."

"...into the world's tumult, into the chaos of every day."

Tuesday, August 12

in the hedge outside my window

the blackberries mass (clenched tight) waiting to plumpen, sweeten, blacken

At Gloucester station

plasticky gulls stand still or promenade on the platform roof

Monday, August 11

one small cup of coffee in a tatty faux-posh tea-room opposite Harrods: £3.60

Sunday, August 10

the field of scraggy closed-up dandelions open up in uni-sun

Saturday, August 9

Home again home again jiggety-jig, to sit with my loved-one and eat fish and chips.

Friday, August 8

Aeroplane drone.
Wind-in-leaves strings.
Wood pigeons mull it over.

Thursday, August 7

Found in the fold of my pocket

Yesterday's bright leaf, the red of new wellington boots, has crumbled into brittle flakes the colour of dried blood.

Wednesday, August 6

a snail in the crook of a glossy leaf, his shell whorled black and white: a boiled sweet

Tuesday, August 5

A shout from outside

'All I want is the truth! And it's just lies and lies and lies!'

Monday, August 4

WUD-MUD... bing! bang! WUD-MUD... bing! bang!

Not music from the room above, but construction sounds as this brand new house grows wooden floors and walls.

Sunday, August 3

Inside the suitcase

Filofax. Socks. Umbrella. Pens. Rolled-up clothes. Journal. Ear plugs. Paper. Toothbrush. Pens.

Saturday, August 2

the cats line up to watch me hang out the washing

Friday, August 1

hanging down in the front of the coach

a stuffed sheep, his tongue hanging out, his jumper saying 'I owe I owe it's off to work we go'