a day full of other people's lives

tsuki clatters through the cat-flap

having got into the habit of announcing her coming-home, she chirrups & purrs us awake at 6am.

a solo walk. waves of wild garlic scent roll out of the woods.

a single fat pigeon contemplates the morning from his satellite television aerial roost

a walk in Dymock

forget-me-nots star the verges. cows release their streams of generous urine onto the ground. skylark song skitters high above. a field of green wheat roils in the breezes. I brush my fingers across its giant pelt as we cross from one side to the other. the sky is blue, blue, blue.  

frothing orange, pink, salmon, the Joseph's Coat roses are out for another May

blackbird doodles a short phrase of song in the blue

stitching words into threads, material, garments

gulp gulp gulp gulp gulp

too hot for camomile tea
after service I drink a mug of cold water

green grass
red watering can
green hedge
green tree
sky!

the courgette seedlings are showing their beautiful greens like lifted palms. their necks have fine hairs, they glow a halo in the evening sun.

on his way to swat at the fly, Roshi flattens the rocket. then the coriander.

group

as the weekend goes on, the love deepens

I lose everything. I gain everything.

where did thursday go?

suck gurgle suck

not sea-water entering and leaving rock-pools but Fatty washing his feet

young rocket leaves plucked straight from their bed: peppery green & tasty

Roshi leaps at flies. I arrange letters into words, with the same spirit. What we do has equal importance.

we take the second hand desk. we take the second hand chair. they are both beautiful. we promise both owners that we will love them.

Gullet's Quarry: such blue, such blue, it won't fit inside a small stone.

camouflage

tabby tsuki-cat curled up on the fake fur throw

wood-pigeon plays the chimney, his deep voice spooky & resonant

during evening service

I remember to look at the Buddha

light fills the sky. clouds scud. the wind riffles the foliage. all is well.

well blessing, malvern

the rain comes down but the candles don't go out.

caleidgh

I put my arms around the shoulders of a strange man and my husband. they spin me and his wife fast until our feet leave the floor. it isn't like flying, it is flying.

the sound of rain drowns out all other small stones

two pin-prick dots of lap-top power lead blue light reflect on the window, dark earth behind, ghostly forget-me-nots.

more rain.

rain.

rain.