When even the ironing is ironed out flat and the world is still turning,(no doubt about that)
I can sit here and wander through roads so familiar and realise it's so similar to how it used to be.
Still raining and damp which gives me a cramp or a touch of arthritis,but I'm not complaining,it's something to do with the year I was born in.
There's a cat watching me from halfway up the tree,it seems he's been there a long time,sometimes his black eyes meet mine,sometimes I turn away,if he's there every day then so am I.
And we both go along as indeed time goes by,
both watching
both waiting
the cat up the tree
and me.