Thursday, May 31

Wednesday, May 30

tsuki clatters through the cat-flap

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

Tuesday, May 29

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

Monday, May 28

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

Sunday, May 27

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.  

Saturday, May 26

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

Friday, May 25

blackbird doodles a short phrase of song in the blue

Thursday, May 24

stitching words into threads, material, garments

Wednesday, May 23

gulp gulp gulp gulp gulp

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

Tuesday, May 22

green grass
red watering can
green hedge
green tree

Monday, May 21

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

Sunday, May 20

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

Saturday, May 19

Wednesday, May 16

suck gurgle suck

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

Tuesday, May 15

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

Monday, May 14

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

Sunday, May 13

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.

Saturday, May 12

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

Friday, May 11

Thursday, May 10

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

Tuesday, May 8

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

Monday, May 7

Sunday, May 6


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.

Saturday, May 5

the sound of rain drowns out all other small stones

Friday, May 4

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