The whir of the washing machine,
half eaten lunch setting on paper plates.
Spoons under sofas
the cat stalks it’s pray of last night’s tea.

The grey summer sky
“sunshine and showers”
tee shirts, shorts and waterproofs.
The sunhat and umbrella medly.

Mouldy orange juice from when I was last here,
stagnant.
a dripping tap
a ticking clock.

Burnt shoulders.
Gooseflesh legs.
Too hot.
Too cold.

Everybody’s gone away
theres no one out to play,
no one can come to stay
I’ll just sit in all day.

Static radio click and a skitting bird,
stench of cigarettes and stale beer
salt and vinegar or dry roasted?

The dormant dampness
of barely-used picnic tables.

Flat coke hanging to melted ice,
warmth trapped under cloud.
Phone under thumb -
get together.

Bike chains and combination locks,
empty wallets, Rizzlers, filters,
a key to the house.

Sticky coaster and slimy taps
beads of sweat on the frozen glass.

Dull grey light
of night time
rolling under clouds.
A mist or cling-film over eyes,
the sky still blue overhead.  

Wind blows itself out
takes the flame of the sun.
Cold and damp under foot,
wetness in the air.

A steady snail sweeps his silent path
as birds go to sleep.
The not-quite-darkness creeps
through the slats in the blind.

To my love,
remember me as I am.
Not spirals and ribbons
slipping through fingers.
But naked and laughing
throw your head back and sing,
cook and dance.
My head rests on your chest
or yours on my stomach.
Shrouded in warmth.
Not like this;
tangled and wounded,
broken like ice on the floor.
But cool hands cupping your face,
knotting your hair.
Remember us breathing together;
in one breath.
Lying as one.
Learn to walk again, darling,
but remember me as I am,
with you.
With love.

Down twisted pipes and tiled walls
garish patterns and stairs fall
deep in the earth.

Bustling bodies and trod-on feet
sweltering in grubby heat
back under ground.

Out of the black roars a dragon
and all its demons pile on
down in the dark

Up in the distance daylight calls,
up twisted pipes, tiled walls
a rush of air.

When there is violet - orange in the sky
and pigeons are welcoming the morning,
there’s warmth from you on the bed where we lie,
sparrows and finches joining the calling.

My heavy eyes can sleep no longer,
but you dear, are sprawled beside me, snoring.
Away from me, let your heart grow fonder,
I want to wake you, your sleep is boring.

Gently, softly, I touch your crumpled face.
“Join me in the daylight, suns flooding in.”
I shove you, poke you, “come back to this place.”
You groan and grumble but your arguments thin.

       Hand on your brow to shade a golden beam,
       you’re frowning, coming to, leaving your dream.

There are crackles and scratches woven here;
bridges and highways where little things run.

Over tangles of brambles and berries
a bud’s coming out; a hand lying open in grass.

There is bracken crisping; brown and dry;
shaded by waxy leaves where water ***** roll.

There are bees in the air, flitting around.
Air which is thick with nectar and pollen.

It’s dense in here; cramped thorns twist,
ears are twitching, claws scratch on bark.

When the light goes away eyes start to shine,
the scurrying gets furious, noises in darkness.

An owl glides down and a mouse hurries up
but quicker than light, he’s swept from the ground.

Spiralling up from his hawthorn nest
He’s stolen away; into the night.

Sparrows whistle, a feather snags on a branch
and the moon bows down to the lilac dawn.