pistachio macaroons: two delicate pale-green discs kissing cream

a train swooshes behind the tall swaying trees beyond the back hedge. pegs on the line wait patiently for the wet washing. the young cats sprint across the lawn and back again, chasing excitement.

our wood-burner chimney purses its lips & whistles a melancholy tune

since Kaspa hoovered
my computer fan
it's quiet
as a
very
quiet
mmm

sunlight
on the cracked clay pot

pigeons have plucked bare the top of this orange-berry-laden tree

everywhere,

everything

suddenly

shedding

gold

the shadow of chicory in my mouth
bitter
dark

magpie strutting along the top of the fence

sharp lines between his black & white feathers

the petrol-sheen on his wing glistens 

his voice like a violently-shaken maraca

a staleness to my lemon & ginger tea. the silhouette of a black cat behind the clematis. the light already leaving the sky.

mid-afternoon

out of sorts, I curl up under my fug of scratchy feelings & go to sleep

new group

this one I like. this one I don't like. this one I like. the judgements firing out from all sides.

already Friday, and a week's worth of small stones missed

a scrumpled up tissue. just that.

the still point in the centre of the day
just sitting

picking up a sleeping cat & moving him from where he shouldn't be

morning practice

settling into the silence
...
the high-pitched twittering of my closed laptop
...
wet sounds of a cat washing himself
...
the air moving through the trees outside
...
the air entering my body

scooping piles of crystal glitter & making snowy hills
where christmas tree sequins will perch
& wait to fly out
to my friends
at xmas

nuggets of translucent plastic bounce off the patio at jaunty angles
soon afterwards, the sun comes to dissolve them

Farrow & Ball paint shop: found small stone

Elephant's breath
Smoked trout
Pale hound
Clunch

Pigeon

Mizzle


Borrowed light
Churlish green
Mouse's back
Bone

pulling my attention from the screen, Tsuki's purr-engine revving & revving

after service

five people
four mugs of spiced berry tea
three mentions of home
two vases of flowers
love

late autumn

stealing this big blue-grey wiggly leaf from the pot-plant for my little vase of flowers

birthday small stone circles

birthday pear cake

discarded present wrapping

Malvern-friends-in-our-living-room

messages on my phone 

far away friends thinking of me

messages on my computer

you 

circled by love

as if threaded with pearls
spiderwebs after rain

the new fur blanket
going down well
with the furry purry members of the family

It would be easy to choose this livid red ivy. Instead I pay attention to the dull mustard & dun leaves, fallen, trodden to mush, nearly returned to earth.

train chugs past, interrupting my train of thought

the tree-with-no-name is now clotted with orange berries. long fronds orangely bob in the breeze. six months ago it was frothing with white blossom. after a winter sleep it will start again.

a new armchair makes a cosy circle in the room
at the centre - the orange flicker in our woodburner

(when I wasn't looking) red is infusing the trees top-down & sunflower-yellow leaves are scattered amongst the green.