he asked me to do

it. pick it up with fingers.

i did. i love him.



it was in the way

of him playing, so with no

disgust, i moved it.



we had a lovely

day. the sun was warm. he will

be nine on tuesday.



sbm.

it is a yearly trip to mold

there and back two times.

he mentioned it was a long way,

does not know the meaning of

it for me.



twice.



the work looked pale

against the others.



pinned twice.



sbm.

road works have been there some time,
you came through before your diagnosis.

did you see the copper beech at gelligemlyn
where the house is for sale. i saw it yesterday,
as if it had never been. from the mist inside
it grew, leaves hanging a fragile thread. tudor
lace in air, few  fell. the light turned green.

we drove on our way, i have no photograph.

sbm.

is on thirteen,  hope the ribbon won’t fray.



if it does we shall buy some other.  it is said

that in my job think lateral, i try,

for art’s sake.



yet there is still that straight line, rules

from years of brain, washing.



perhaps programme two, or one.



boil wash.



sbm.

remember days before food waste,

scraps for  dog,  cat maybe

some pig.



sitting until my plate was clear,



hash. tag rationing.



peelings were taken down

the garden by the rhubarb buckets

or

aunt olive made wine from that

with tea dregs.



he came every other day, pig man as

it was acceptable in those days.



when

there was no food waste .       mum

darned socks



sbm.

she came in from the rain,  walking in the hills

for hours. they come most sundays, some all legs

and boots.



very wet.



left her gear outside, still had her coat on. where

are the toilets.  i told her.



I have to go outside?



yes.



she complained.



it is raining.i shall get wet!



yes.



she has been before and had observed that she felt too old for this.



i smiled at her with fondness.



sbm.

nothing is as it seems.

there are enough disturbances in the world,

without another.

stay under glass.



sbm.