a small village, mayhap a hamlet, named,

one forgets the rules with all that has happened.



domestics done, we walk over to buy two pots

of pansies, a pound  for both , money for charity.



nice to be out, to see the neighbours’ houses,

to see what has changed while i have been working.



not much.



late light brings photographs, wandering  the graveyard,

yew berries abound. bird bones ready to gather, to box.



i thought of your disorder.



did you leave your hat?



sbm.