i met him online



he worked with me

we worked together



we met off the train

as in  film



ate

fish ‘n chips in conwy



later he read his verse



i found i could recite it silently

beside him



there is now a deep silent sadness

i ate crackers with butter
sometimes cheese. i prefer
the latter warm

i have not eaten peanut
butter, nor tasted it i think

i feel it is something
emotional
the thought of disliking
it without really knowing

i am much the same with
hot chocolate yet know
the reasons why

with that

it is mild here with sun
shining on the lake and
hills beyond. we both
looked from the top deck
on the bus yesterday

at the terminus we changed
onto an older colder bus with
cleaner windows

i walked from the stop down
the lane and looked in the
graveyard

writing in hope that you are at last asleep

noted the moon cutting a clean night sky

woke several times yet could not remember

you or you

today am back to work in the studio to see
what comes

i have watched the counter tenor talking

utter sense
take this with me

to remember the special times
the learning we have had
recently

later
the weaver of raveloe
allows a little weakness
here

in hope that you are at last asleep

i missed it here while away
this safe place despite
the car failing

i called recovery
watched the trees
a while while waiting

got it fixed

came back here again

there is always that wish
to return home these days

not always
in those troubled times

here we need no black days
no more, not in this house

seen too many troubles
so an easy day today
&
naturally shall call the garage
for a check over

it is an old thing now
& liking old things
carry on again
back home

for you i hope the laundry smells good
blasts the eyes with white, that music

continues repeatedly
that the snow is crispy
with small birds singing

with mid winter just ahead

i see we are on a new page
numbered twenty
a differing colour

i see you wrote while i was
away

constantly

i thank thee

i learned much
probable forgot some

the hotel was old &
the other century traditional

with damp patches here and
there

service patchy
either excellent or *******

while vegetarians were served
last with white damp stuff

so the others lent me their
roast potatoes

yet i felt clean & comfortable
walked the longest pier to
see the brown sea to see

funland

we are on a new page

he land that time forgot
is here
down the road a bit

with stories how he clambered
to the plateau to rescue the
lost dog

or did it find its own way down

really

ours is a small town with buses
in the square at certain times
lamplight reflected on wet roads

the travellers find their own amusement
while waiting

some have a smoke and chat on phones
some drift to the shops to window think
while i watch the boys on bikes

news came yesterday
so driving home past the power house
decide that will be the next meeting place
with family

and ghosts

do you have salad cream on tug hill
does it catch your throat too?

i hope you found your sister well
i like to hear you talk about family

it may help her if you listen well &
it may help another too

the words line up one below the other
yet i cannot remember the photograph
so will go to look

the drawing is mine
as i rather like clouds

some people overlook
these things yet from

your writing
i realise
that you do not

circling the bike
the boys here
do that, look cool

wheelies and touch the bus
in passing by
in the lamp lit square here

some folks complain & write
to the newspaper

i am simply envious of their prowess
the beauitiful skin