frozen, the code will not work, nor will the counting with interruptions, all things moved about. there is a discount, on top the discount, so a discussion ensued on buttons.

now there is an understanding.  the season of it all fits, the picture is made the pieces are in place. left on the tray, photographed for all to see.



talked in numbers and rhythms. a train passed, gulls flew the heat haze. on return, no one spoke.



i have written of them before, now in sign and symbol, i regard, that ‘again’ brings a sense of permanence, that familiarity does not always mean contempt , yet continuity.



spring comes round, and we keep the litte things, again.



sbm.

.charleston farmhouse screen .


criticize , critique, where is the difference?  read  google. read wikipedia and you will

see that eventually it becomes too much.                                                     that fateful day.



some say you have lost your memory,                                            think of the wrong name.



there are others remain the same.                                                  it may only be one sentence

yet is still part of the story.



an unfortunate phrase.



his name was             duncan grant.

two panels. there is no photograph.



sbm.

with great love and care ( adverb) he made them. each one             by hand.

most were killed before breakfast. visitors asked to see the bodies,  having

none, he imported them from abroad.                                    more  killed than

the somme. thousands after dawn.                         he has models now of dead

soldiers, some with arrows in.

small scene          first world war,                            glow in the dark.    memorial.

having spent time among his battles,   i went and ate a donut.           lovingly.

sbm.

leaned by the window.     cold.

thought that

if

snow falls it may  land,

if trees grow it may be

up.



if we all plant seeds

they may be food.



the day before  we  drove to

montgomery.



sbm.

i often wonder if i              should recognise you

in passing,                            or are you gone now?



should i remember your name & your brothers.



would i laugh at the experience,      as happened

yesterday.



he walked straight past me without       blinking.



i guess i am plain now, without no fancy hair style.



blinking.



sweet heart.



sbm.



daily post



sbm.

solitude is usual ,              even welcomed.

trips out reveal another state. the mind
and all travelling            excites, , i await
silence.

again.



he asked me a question, then i replied.

endlessly.                      it may be a gift?

ash escapes the brain

into    air.

days left,

three voices

rise, until just

one

is heard.


sbm.

overcome by woollen mills,

things on a window       sill.

it may seem,my friend, that I move a
little differently                  than others.

it does seem, my friend that the day
was so good,       i am overwhelmed.

with everything.



he said he can uplift my carpet

whilst    sounding very biblical

it is quite practical.   the notice

indicated that I could        pray.



maybe not this day.



sbm.