Tuesday, April 30

a ten-bud peony bush
delicious spheres
scarlet showing
like a glimpse of knickers

Monday, April 29

frothy cones of buddleia
the colour of violet sweets

Sunday, April 28

this old floor
stained
pock-marked
wrinkled

holding me up

Saturday, April 27

I rub at the charcoal, try to reignite the scent of burnt wood. Instead black flakes adhere to my skin, pepper this page with full stops.

Friday, April 26

Thursday, April 25

morning promenade

taking in growth, slug damage, dry seedlings, forgotten plants, beauty

Wednesday, April 24

service

there is anguish hidden amongst the smiles & laughter

Tuesday, April 23

finally I cut some flowers for my office vase: orange wallflower, blue grape hyacinths, a daffodil.

Monday, April 22

a dribble of frozen wax draws a straight vertical line down this fat loyal candle

Sunday, April 21

crumbs on the wooden kitchen surface
reveal the ghost of the circular breadboard

Saturday, April 20

four washed-up bowls
post-soup
patiently
awaiting
their next
job

Friday, April 19

how do the primroses move?
like nodding-dog heads,
as they welcome the sun
with their pink-tipped petals opened wide...

Thursday, April 18

a smear of white bird shit
on a flinty stone
up close, like powdered chalk
smelling of nothing

Wednesday, April 17

blackbird tucks into our fat balls
making me happy

Monday, April 15

the wind ruffles the tangerine coloured bush, the dangling feeders, the tufty grass, the trees, me.

Sunday, April 14

rose-thorn after weeding: a black spot on my fingertip shows me where the pain is

Saturday, April 13

Friday, April 12

a generous mound of pale yellow primroses keeps on flowering

Thursday, April 11

morning meditation

the longest twenty minutes of the day
accompanied by birdsong
settled into silence

Wednesday, April 10

aquilegia shows off its curls and frills, emerging into cold spring, impatient for sun

Tuesday, April 9

Roshi brings in ivy leaves with mouse-tail-like stems
usually there are half a dozen in the kitchen
this morning there is one half-way up the stairs
he wanted to bring it to us in bed...

Monday, April 8

in the first moments of morning
wood-pigeons croon coooo coooo

Sunday, April 7

the hoover breathes in noisily
and so do I
old machine

Saturday, April 6

lush tv music rises up the stairs. our neighbour's rowdy italian seeps through the wall. roshi yawns a wet yawn & settles back into a circle. the clock ticks. insistent. i open my book.

Friday, April 5

turning away from the screen to see the Buddha in profile, the golden swirls of his hair, straight nose, hands gassho-ed, the curved folds of his robes, enlightenment lingering on his lips...

Thursday, April 4

a sniff of lemon&ginger tea
pale-yellow flavoured
spicy
floral around the edges
brings me back to
my daily
small
stone

Wednesday, April 3

tiny hiding violet
head iris-shaped
leaves upright flumes
for collecting rain

Tuesday, April 2

claret-coloured new leaves echo the peeling bark, shards hanging down

Monday, April 1

a patch of blue
hemmed in by clouds
I could dive into it...