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.

men will sing with three voices,
and dance in their suits,
and i will be headlost, and dizzy.

leaving the coat
to bathe in pools
of light, under green,
dripping back into
the coat , red coat.

** notes from the red coat, a prediction.

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.

i may like to have an exhibition,

of my small and useless things,

i make, which utterley

have no importance whatsoever.



probably a complete

waste of time,

in some minds, however

i should like to

arrange them

in some small room,

with dust

and motes that fly

in the sun’s beams.



you could scratchit there.

they say that manners maketh man,

yet boys in pyjamas

use them to be polite , asking for quality

behaviour. smiling slightly

converse in lowered tones.



nijinski.

she goes up early these days,

as if she is involved.

jumping the stairs

and laying head down,

eyes swimming,

brown.


does she know,

does she miss him too,

is that why.

she goes up early,

before me,

and i visit.


until thinking of her there,

i join her

my head down,

eyes

brown

too,

brown eyes too

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.