start again. mid september,the cloak folds around.

dark at the window, rain streams the lights, lorries
drive early. mansel davies.

does the music sound different, does it ease
more readily in autumn. i write in halls, remember
the museum, work steadily, do you understand the delight?

strange that such a simple task can bring such concentration,
pleasure after a long day before. to clarify here, i had a day
at home, working. the clocks are never right.

sbm.