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it came warmer yesterday
while i hung the washing
outside
a wind

flew the leaves
from the oak brittle and light

up and over the hedge so
pretty

the clouds waiting as you
say

there are many to fascinate
give them names and fluff

becomes fact
a place one can recognise

my keys are old and tricky
i am used to them that way

so i sense your anguish

i had a visitor yesterday
and cooked & cleaned

autumn passes
winter waits
wonder where it goes
when it disappears?

sometimes letters fade
in the passing and the
spelling is wrong

or the names are forgotten

not written on stone

yet

the news is not factual
so much here any more
and i feel the important
things are missed

and others come biased

i told him that i neither
trust nor mistrust such
a thing

that is more to do with
people

he had chocolate in his
bag

he gave me a leaflet
it is in my pocket
yes, i like that
a spy fly

looking at all things
regular, irregular

looking out the window
looking at the world

translating babel

it is golden here
the slate shadowed

up the pass
while travelling

while visiting

the imperial
with a friend
not so cold here possibly

as at yours


i still light the stove

for cosy with resting

legs after work


that poetry man

don’t get much

and even says so


i thinks until my brain

figures it

out again today

it is a busy week

with a trip related

later
winter light leaves
round the bend trees bears golden,
the horse chestnuts lose first.
bus in front turns left, I slow, drive home.

my photograph is buried it in damp earth.

light leaves.
your writing delights
in the latter sparseness

the initial intensity

i enjoy reading it
coming to life
before me

beside me the window open
an owls sounds
yet no lorries
on the road yet

remember and

we touch the wall
where the car crashed
that time back
remember how he died
how my friend tried to
help

so we carry on
we went

were constructive

experienced

and overcame

any difficulties

the moon shone huge

on our horizon

the wind bit

like alligators

while fires burned

around the world

even in bolton
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