rain. two dark birds fly over.

if you stop writing

about me , will i

disappear?



will we be so quiet

no one will notice us,

any more?



the bear considered, thought

it may be nice.



sbm.

there are asterisks on the calendar

we thought it denoted something important

maybe

a coachload coming

for tea



i saw  it

& thought of

asterix the gaul



though no one i know

has heard of him

the glossy covers nor nothing



anyhow i asks the boss, so what are these stars

for you know

asterisks, careful how i say it

so as not to confuse with comics



oh that.

that is me crossing out  my leave

and not a star at all



ampersand

mean while
the chaffinch
stays by
the mirror

happy memories?



do it remind you of the good



or



the not so



good



times?



it may be easier to accept things now



angel cards

10.
**( words and uncertainty)

i am a painter and decorator

with colour and words

the confectioner,

i like sweets, jelly rings.

i shall measure uncertainty, probably

quietly i say that i like lockdown again

not. not the reason for it, just the concept

was emotional when i feel all is changing

i shall not go back

i have learned the lesson

paid the price

pat says i am joan of arc

without the fire

so it was your birthday

how lovely

i have no gift

just the daily words

james

so yesterday we spoke of it

discussed it and got to know

each other better

found

we knew the others less

i have akhenaten on my app

today so nothing much will

be done here

while i watch

it was near you at the new york met james

did you know

did you see it

i did

live streaming

and made a good friend

so again i wish you a happy birthday

at midsummer while the flowers grow

while all around is humming

yet there is one here who cuts back

tidies and scrapes nature away

he told me he had an obsession

and i find i tend to agree james

a happy day after your birthday

day 100

randomly

cannot see the thread as it is on the other page


saying that i was short on red so ordered more

via the internet

two spools so

there is plenty now

now i remember that you saw the night

properly

while here we wondered, got lost in our

head

looked up and found the morning had

come pink again

scattered light in particular places

the other in shade

he says us older ones are no longer mentioned

and maybe are now back in the general population

unlike those shielded

joan of arc

springs in mind again

as does lampeter

maybe it was an omen

the nut tree last fall

that failed

had one have predicted the happenings

at that time i would not have credited it

science fiction

survivors

and glory here, though
not a good way to start
a sentence. they say there
is a frost today, though i
cannot see it yet.

i could not see the signs
until standing back, the
pattern formed. it is

the first movement
of winter, though
not officially, yet.

i saw the wooden boulder again
yesterday. it has not moved,

yet.

sbm

it has been different
this time. were preparing
for verything, surprised
when words fell away
into ether.

gaseous samples of neutralisation,
realise the decision is made. lasting.

deleting nothing , results the same.

nothing.

sbm.

i do not have an
advent calendar.

it is a season
of dark.religion
waiting.

it may be
time to regrade

christmas.



sbm

the visitor came, silently,
while waiting patiently,
did not hear him.

did not hear him creep
nor hear him sleep.

yet he rose clean and early,
to work another day. patiently
i waited.

he is a working man.

sbm.

if it is all about numbers as some suspect

you have success

 

whatever that is

 

why is that thing so important

surely it is made up and differing

for all the peoples

and creatures too

 

why james did they make those rules

before us

and even then ask why do we adhere

mostly

 

we may think we don’t

yet i feel we do mostly

 

sometimes glad to do so instead of

having our own

 

way to go

your cut and paste i understand

have been working that way some

time

 

i like the random nature of these

things

 

and do you remember, did i tell

you about the walnut trees in lampeter

that failed last year and we stood and

wondered if this was an omen

of things to come

 

maybe it was

and maybe just maybe those clouds

yesterday were a thing too

james

 

i cut the grass

once a task for the handyman

then a difficult chore for me

now comes easy

even a pleasure

while texting at intervals

 

while thinking of rhubard and

looking for the sun james

 

as for numbers

one hundred & two

with an ampersand for pattern

yet no one comments on that

 

they talk about the news

current affairs

and i wonder if it is their anger

that keeps them going james

 

while i drink tea and look at birds

daily

this  morning they prayed

for those at sea.



the snail has been wandering,

silver trailed the mat

and hallway, escaping rain,

and wondrous sundries.



there is a calmness

a tiny red scooter.



we talked of loss,

they often understood.

sometimes they didn’t

and forgot the apostrophe.



sbm

liking the format, liking the days
that come natural now without
no planning

evolving gradually

my trip out yesterday
there have been a few

1. for cash a long while back at early in the morning

2. for fuel
at a reasonable time of day

3. the garage for my mot; passed eventually

4. the tip yesterday with the garden trash
which all went smoothly, clearly they
are well organised and tidy minded

it was all damp, leafy & would not burn
there is that ampersand again & will they
notice?

he was there my old riding partner
remembering
those days in the back bar, most
are gone now

seems now my category is not mentioned
no more, become part of the general population
again

james

then i have the daily walk
as do the others while others
carry on as they have always
done
james

as if nothing happened

my bike still sits quiet
wheeled out each day
to admire

i will get back to it
in time

meanwhile we carry on james
we carry on

i have a few bells
not all on bikes
some rusting
i have always liked bicycle bells

the cat came in the studio to grab
the mummified bird james
i managed to recue it though
dead already

the wild thing entered the studio again
whilst
i was not looking

the dead things are missing
presumed eaten

years old
dried must
have tasted bitter

feathers left outside
in scatters

i had taken photos

the rat remains under glass

even at home small dramas occur

they had the drain issue
while i experienced non delivery
though they said they had
delivered

so today we talk of cows
now up behind the yard
where i can see them all

together

so pretty with differing patterns
james
with a chevrolet bull he said
he possibly will have spelled
it different

i don’t know

i see a lot while walking yet
still envy those that pass by
bike

i still pick up things that they
may not see going by so quick

like he did not see the objects
the idle artefacts in passing
so busy thinking of his own affairs
desires

hot here today
they say

there may be storms tomorrow
yesterday the planes flew over
while i waited

slightly

they forecast it,
we do not listen any more,
just check the window.

the radio is old, retro,
gift for a birthday,
arrived late we did not say,
not
wishing to upset.

headlights flash, sheep
on the road,
the pheasant run, a pleasant
run, minding squirrels, other odd
furry things on the road.

hurt no living thing.

it rained all day, new
dress on the line, still wet.

sbm.

the storm came last evening
well, late afternoon really. we

were talking as i watched the
water fall down the window

there was none the other end
though breezy with the doors

open

the studio was an oven of
oppression
skin pricked
while

i drew the tiny coat faintly
and left to sit outside to
think

to

then carry compost round
the back

filthy then i bathed, put on
cotton pyjamas
heard the heaviness of water
drops

we have cat slide windows
here

james

water runs down
water runs everywhere

that was last evening and it all steamed later

it is morning
the mist hangs
in the place i walk
each day

that place i lived was on the news
&
for that one day i am glad i moved
away

all the other days too
i have been here a while
now

softly

sometimes i have to check my numbers
sometimes they run out of corn all together
and offer me peas

not the same james
a different colour
i like yellow

i place the bone
where the mouse once was

the other bodies are boxed now

murky this morning and possibly cool
outside
with promise of a social occasion possible

unless there are more gigantic congregations
with no worth other than to scatter their litter

they will come with fire here on the bridge
where he spent the day scraping tenfold
maybe gave up

i have not heard him since
told me he had obsessions
i tend to agree

excitement here over the boxes
due here soon, parcel force

do you remember my love

this is a new project

anyway

that is the way i get stuff now
no travelling
no stores

no hassle
only the joy of expectation james

&

i guess you understand that

watching the seeds grow
looking for flowers
& little animals

admiring the cows now
on the hill silhouetted

got that ok the second time around james
some things take several if not many attempts

then i drew the coat again

plus 66 pence.

now i can buy the things
i think i need,  find that

i am not bothered, that
i have the things i need.

it is a box of old postcards,
that started the conversations,
the ideas and interaction.

it was rather good.



collaborations work.

sbm

we do have muffins, but not cheese curd
unless it has a different name here, the fried
ones look nice

we have bread muffins white and fluffy
i could eat one now

still gloomy this morning

she fidgeted and fussed
so i let her out last eve

then the rain came hard
in sheets they say and i
felt for her yet i know she
has some place to go as
she comes in dry later

later i found i can colour
with the carbon especially
the red if cut in strips and rolled

so i did that only i forget that i meaned
to write this different more meaningful
topical

with references to our situations without
saying
these strange times
&
three word slogans

he said it
and i laughed and laughed

we all got very wet yesterday
then tucked back indoors nicely

and i ordered verbena again
he pulled the last one out
thought it was a **** james

so i have three coming by post
of course

with the candle
and some dates

as have fancied them a lot

as a child we had them only
at christmas
in a pressed
block

and i have prunes left

it is like loving a ghastly child

she said.



looked down,

her ankles swollen

in the heat.



sbm.

our thinking changes over time
doesn’t it?

these quiet times of isolation have
affected some
and they become startled at what is
still going on outside

with words and maybe misunderstanding

if there is a question
we  can research it to allow things to grow

they certainly will this weather
so much rain that i remain inside
this morning

no early walk have been soaked twice
recently
right through

hence comes the changes

i photograph at the window
yet you cannot feel the wet
from the image
nor feel the wind
for wind there is this time

perhaps the poet had done his job
for you james
and set you on your path?

you can think of him on your bicycle
his words & patterns
the flow of ideas
& this will remain forever with you

things stay here and sadly it all reappeared
while walking like a film before me in snatches

eliminated on return with the currant bun
the coffee

traces remain hidden for the most part
only to come out on particular
occasions
without  warning

she said it without  a warning
& i was horrified

again

no playlist
no 9.99 a month

it can be a difficulty
with feelings, indications,
suchlike and endlessly.

climbing the gate
was easy, the walk
slipped the slate
higher.

us in wellingtons
and ballet shoes,
decided against
ambition. war time
traps, climbed back
the gate again.

another day will
do for such meanderings.

sbm.

she asked how long
i had been here,
over twenty years,
i think.

envy the rural living.

make some,
walk the lanes
each day,
know the places,
to stop,
where berries grow.

where the photograph tree
knows,
what lays beneath.

look at each gentle place,
to keep in a pocket
of love,for that rainy
day, you do not go.

then in mind, in honour
walk the place in mind.

the lanes, llanelltyd.

sbm.

have counted & now
the counting stops soon

as

all is changing

i cleaned the kitchen yesterday
thoroughly
while outside it rained
quite thoroughly

i find that soon i may visit my
family, not be solitary

that i may travel further
that i must still be very
careful

so i cleaned the kitchen
thoroughly
and wondered about it all

i had got used to it james
quite used to it even
enjoyed it

therefore
i shall also make changes
now the kitchen is tidy

one +

strange habit, breakfast at lunch.

strangle collars that hold, strangles
the voice into trebles. trinity
meaning three.

we fought the way from darkness,
into light, birds singing early
without the need, of alarms.

he said it was raining there.
here it was not.

now it is.

there are nuns in dolgellau.

sbm.

here we all are, brass band playing.

he wrapped it all in private eye, the things,
like tiny mummies, so i will photograph
them, open them later, for delight and
some amusement, calling it all work.

for work it is, alongside
walks and tom fripperies
of day and night blankets.

comfort to allay his words
of sadness. hotmail is down
right now.

sbm.

you are younger than i ; stride out  quickly.

it is my birthday walk down the estuary. it

is good to hit the sunny patch and hear

the bird call.

a cold day,  november. we decide to

turn, return.

you mention that we had come far,  it seems

that you are walking faster.

or am i lagging behind. now.

sbm.

there are no photographs.

yes. when i go visit, go further i shall stop counting

in wales it is hoped that this may be so
that we may visit one other household
be part of that .even stay over

the day is yet to arrive

i enjoyed my garbage run james
we call it recycling and very well
organised 

another trip out that left me buzzing 

things can change
and if they do

the counting stops then

the laptop is in disarray
so I tap here neatly by phone

it feels neat and particular 
With little noises to accompany 
james

and more help with the spelling 

it gives me capitals so I change them quickly 

I wonder if I will visit tregaron this fall
go to lampeter to see if the walnut tree
has anything for me

betwixt the mobile and laptop
things come awry and we leave it so

the random nature of things

faintly corrupted

creeps at the upper window
now, perfumed. cutting
gently round the windows,
letting in light and autumn days.

inside the cat watches while
carefully we trim, minding the
red rose. like he minded the pumpkin.

the light was different yesterday.

sbm.

just words added together making phrases

slogans 

programmed I guess
without anyone noticing 

until they do
of course

then comes embarrassment
on realisation

it means nothing

we prefer it this way

i have been imagining and that is all it is

invented scenarios in my mind

james

how are you guys doing over there now?

at first here it felt difficult for me
for shopping and other tasks

gradually 
we found our way
now it is the way 

of life

rang the helpline about my laptop james
he says he thinks we are the virus on this
earth that kills the trees and animals 

that kills each other

i walk each day
&
some days stay dry

forever imagining

some of the people
have double numbers,
speak in two tongues,
sing with three voices.

all being equal, the song
is sung in whatever
language, or creed.

indeed, we often say
the name of those, so
seeming to become
boring,

we carry on, we carry on.

plan visits to new places,
the sky is dark this morning.

new numbers came
suddenly, soon
after one.

nothing added any more,
all began to subtract,
divide, the result
algebraic

there are no rulers,
lines to divide,
the total is irrelevant
now, the
addition foremost.

i have been to the counting.

sbm.

awake early to rain on the window
severe piano music from the radio

cosy up a while
with tea

your words took on a different tone than
the cycling tales 

I appreciate this

today here
comes another announcement 
predicted it will be dropping the

present travel restriction 

yesterday came energy
with words from another

with a sudden burst late 
the grass was cut though
was sent cross eyed back

into the house with hunger

new recipe awaited
what I invented &
I expect someone else
invented it before sometime

rhubarb delivered after
from the family garden

james

to be cooked today
some frozen in small portions

when young I ate it raw
on the bus home from work

my mother told me it clears the blood
while vinegar changed it to water

things to tell a child

I wonder about the taste of tea
as I drink it

about the summer clothes not worn this year
mainly in workwear
with heavy boots
that take days to dry out

sheltering

it is the rule,
now . we try new things.

i have houmus, thought
of you, pat. she bought
rye bread, thirty percent
reduced.

in price.

i bought a mending set,
packed in a tin, like the war,
full of little things.

pincushion, tomato shape,
with pins stuck in.

i bought you a geometry
set. draw shapes, measure
angles.

have you,
tried something new.

recently?

sbm.

this is not intended,
the making of time.

not planned,
the days of our
lives.

let us not regret,
yet look to the good
things.

biggles and buzz.

dates to remember.

sbm.

dogs.

i miss her eyes, her looking up, back at me
the sound of her running the stairs scratching the door when it slammed shut in the wind

so i imagine your dog
from the description you gave

me

got no walk yesterday for heavy rain
nor today by looks of it

things come together
things are changing 

rattles the brain
until things drop into place
and we move forward knowing

i am a fortunate even though

you made a positive change 
i find my words come the same

now with one finger
the pointy one
the one i point with

you know on the bus with her
then 
at horses, helicopters and planes

dogs

now I indicate invisible with my mind
unless I forget

though we won’t go on buses now

i count in the last day tomorrow 
for although we must stay safe
i do not want to count forever

james

i note the weather this morning
from the small bedroom window
see
the water is up on the field 
flooding
while I am dry indoors

cosy

i wished

i wished

that things would change



no alteration there



we gets what we gets

she said



pointless



dorset



i wish, i wish that wishing

came productive



dorset

winter salt

taste the darkness

ice to slime melting



touch the window

watch the frost form



hear yourself screaming

daily surrender



an unpleasant smell

see the softest looking clouds
wonder
if that is where that work came
from
and the joy of pink?

with gentle grey

the wind blows round our houses
water recedes
stories change

it was later that afternoon that
the rain stopped so we stepped 
out a while 
down to the bell field

three miles there and back
they say

noting the markers are moved

the car park is back open with
a sign of guidelines
to be kind

the grass is being cut at the caravan park 
the tent field flooded

they will come tomorrow 
it will still be quiet today

talking 
it feels some folk are the same
no need to hurry
no need for changes yet

there is a mark on my ankle
and it is getting bigger

there is a story regarding work
that keeps changing

no number

they are mending aberdovey

bridge again. i passed twice.



the service was beautiful, although

our hearts had sunk.  his music soared

as the kite flew the window.



the flies climbed the walls.



a buzzard flew to jazz.

the flies climbed the wall.



ended with the pasa doble,

while the flies continued.



i came home over dovey bridge



sbm.

here is a youth three aye

club in town, she says,

they are nice people.

i am sure.

i once planned to walk with them,

it rained, i did not have

sandwiches.

now i am thinking

of travelling

the world.



possibly?



sbm.

on the sea, this morning
plays to me. the powerhouse
diminished.

has no power over me. i write
this steadily.

i think of those
in peril on the sea.

he never tires of that one,
and i have no appropriate photograph.

sbm.

back to the counting, how many

have there been, how many are left





still standing.



an issue for some, yet

we  amend the figures

here and move on.



lucky ones,  maths

divides and decimates

others.



yet it is the weave that holds

it all together, makes it strong.



be an example.



sbm.

softly the curtain drapes,

arranged carefully, revered in mirrors.



they do say it is an antique french lace

panel. pretty with a pattern,  bows

and flowers. scalloped edges.



sits in the lamp light perfectly,

like some thing in a magazine.



country living.



wood windows, the wind got through

last night. the fabric moved

softly.



sbm.

we did not mean
to go to sea,
heads bound heavily.

we did not mean
to take the tide,
escape the crowds
and families.

we read arthur ransome
sensibly, sink gracefully.

sbm.

i am now snaller, than i used to be.

maybe is the colours, red and white,
that appeal, the patterns, or the
retro items in the cupboard. he

gasped, and proclaimed the beauty
as the door was opened. so
yesterday, all was tidied, categorised,
more paper laid, for his, and my
delight.

he is home from holday.

sbm

witnesses came again,
reminding the words are there,
black and white, the finger writ,

he said, in the beginning it was so.

then having spake moved on, with
language unbeknown. how did

they let it happen, the flood, how
did the house surrender. a holy

place. a place of conversation, stuff
of the age, no empire building here.

there was scarambled egg, and a cabinet
pudding waiting.

sbm.

this is the day, i tell you many things,
this is the day for conversation and random
pointings.

this is the day our legs dangle,
the breeze lifts our hair.

lo and behold.

sbm