the kitchen is quite dark without the light on as is slightly below ground, the graveyard behind

used to leave a lamp on yet with energy prices hike, now follow her lead and wait until entry

Yet the days moved nicely. There were little troubles, nothing to diminish the beauty of it all.

we shall never know
for there is no microscope

here

moving on i feel it was a flashback
to the girl who wished for quiet and
can remember  in detail

:: tides are higher now, flooding the paths. he walked the mud, bringing the footsteps back to us ::

a fine line we walk,
gently avoiding peptides,only just a theory,


yet used independently,
alongside honest work,
for mending.

drawing lines

in paper, cutting,

bleeding the lead

into showers,

and explosive marks.

the power house rears its head again,

pouring images down

like rain.

has been a long time coming, it lasted many years,

now is gone.

all of it, all the straight ideals and weathered work.

pale words a clue in the breathing

the stone set left in barns

caught the words hopefully in burning hands thinking that the sky was clear

though in the past

never so far away

i told him when he asked about dinner
with his sister

we laughed and the wind blew things
away

she was drawn again yesterday with her sibling

though it did not look quite right so

shall i tear the sister off?

the thing desired some years back

is

now offered

& now

no longer required

now your name may be redeemed
your wanderings freed into new

adventures

we listen to the rain early

with mixed feelings

there may not be gardening done today

there may be drawings

nicely

sometimes I have toast

and sometimes insert one comma

carefully we drew her out

all tidy with reason, wearing

us down

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

she said it without  warning
& i was horrified

maybe I should write beautiful

lilting stuff again with rhymes and things

like people seem to like


or tragic dark long stories

of dreadful deaths

and mourning

as before


today will say it would have been

an anniversary

for what that is worth


he asked me the year

and surprised that i remembered


of course i miss them

just pretending to be a hard *****

struck dumb

i shook to think of you all

looking up as one plane flew over

do not wish to hide
do not wish to run
to take the boat and steer
to take the hiatus i fear

i too fly solo though
i did enjoy live performances
as you may tell

with all that talk of circus

i too fly solo
&
enjoy the flight

when the day clears
i look up at the others

used to wonder where they go
now I have an app to tell me

i watch the geese in the estuary
hear their sound

later in the garden
when the sun shows

raise my face into that light

the wood louse died and feel it was natural not ****** or an accident

a lot of this event here

an old house

feeling sad about it we remembered reading that the energy does not disappear

that it changes form

we smiled when we knew that and placed the tiny body in the compost

later that day we saw art from materials placed in compost

and smiled

the anxiety failed later in the day
a more comfortable place as i
watched other peoples ways and
opinions

we saw the lights in the village

yesterday a sea fret, misted trees,
added edge ; visual delight.

i like this road to there.

friend came on the trip
yesterday
and we enjoyed it yet

i am used to going alone.

after she was all enthusiastic
and suggested more and more

i am used to  going alone….

think of you, who made it special

and we leaped with the preparations, little folk.

he came round the back of the house, my beautiful

the coal house next to the toilet by our back door

once he fell and mother brought him in and his hands went to the walls and surfaces for support, making marks

i

fancy mother made him tea, with sugar

we moved house not so beautiful, my beautiful

upstairs, it was carried upstairs by the front door prepared with newspaper wads to stop the dust and me parked behind to count the bags.

always correct, failing the story of short loads and money on the side

now my beautiful, is delivered to the bunker outside and the delivery note put through the letter box for me

beautiful house for me yet

one never forgot the first

my beautiful.

let us look at things, differently.
often, we do things, no one ever sees.
that is you and me. two of us
dancing on the sand.

it came
and went,
quickly.

the drawing

went wrong from the beginning


i thought and on the wrong paper too

i thought


had ordered card from asda

got a substitution of a colouring book

more suitable for the house next door with children

i thought so donated it over


there


saw their puppy


then continued on the wrong paper

i thought

only things worked out

cojoined twins

so,

must we write about it before we forget,

before  people come and disagree?

they have small waists and a  national costume

we went out on the chain ferry across to the beach
all sun sea gulls and possibilities
day of freedom

maybe connections are missed the link dismissed.    

metaphors faint as my flimsy whispers  

symbols   do you deny me peace?   perhaps you utter the words constantly?  

look closely

was good to be away a while to see different shapes and reds to greens

i saw

i skimmed slates that bounced about

seems there may be some connection
some call it a trigger
some things leave us cold and wondering

early

mist and greyness alongside a nice breeze through the window brings joy

builder is getting on fine and though the roof is mended it looks just the same only tidy

there is


one particular tile that looks quite divine.


i will hang out the window sometime to take a photograph for you



the interview felt dull, yet I will persist. 

with punctuation

day of small things,
slowly steadily worked
as we rest the dust motes,
shine as gold.

no words to describe the mass,

the danger of it all, the hate  that

rises.



the parallel,

the home, the black chair.



power house.

bone house.

care for small things

to be tired after it all
to sleep soundly

carelessly

the day yesterday

so flimsy it is hardly there.

so worn, it is almost dead.
recreate the dying in your head.

so small it is hardly there.

so cheap it is almost dead.

draw it. recreate the scene in your head.

have a sort of family member
lives in texas you know

it is a long story
and though interesting
not to be written of
so maybe should not have mentioned it really

in my tiny world of work
do not write of family nor friends

and though I explained that he seemed paranoid
thought it was all about him
in abundance

need less to say that some of it is truth while the rest is imagination

as are the drawings

putting words in my mouth
like sweet sultanas in chocolate


they come in twos

my plans change
for the bus company

suggests we don’t go today
go on wednesday

not even tomorrow
unless it’s urgent

been busy though early
under the tree

no shoes at all, my delight

the neighbour gone looking for boots
you know

the shop up town soon closing

not this town
up blaenau…


13.55

yes

using phrases like the enemy
it don’t go unnoticed here either

a negative use of language
instead of facts as you say

incitement and riot talking
found not guilty when tried

it is the modern way
to use adjectives that don’t apply

descriptions that come unnecessary
with double letters

and meanings

they talk in metaphors like me

they have a differing task, are not
magicians with a comma

moving on

i hope she will like a bike
and ride along with you

:: line drawing ::

watched it twice those days when we could travel

see exhibitions


quiet slow and uneventful

it left lasting impressions

a simple drawing out


no fuss


and sometimes late in the evening

think of it


leave the house

and return to the simple line drawing

shades defining.

now I have to say that I usually like

the colour as items, yet maybe not

as entity.

I face the slate

grey

and bleed red

no words to describe the mass,

the danger of it all, the hate  that

rises.

the parallel,

power house.

bone house.

here we only know fear

and hiding again it splits

in two

stood there at the big house with the designer dog
each other and grandchild

add their two cars,  mobile home
sheds for bikes, scooter, kayak and other paraphernalia and vast corporate gardens

returned from the holiday abroad
asked if they enjoyed it

moaned vehemently on the price
of their covid tests

ffs

cutting,

bleeding the lead

into showers,

and explosive marks.

the power house rears its head again,

pouring images down

like rain.

find the chosen pathways
watch the birds and wild
flowers grow

below the scene plays out

with wildlife as punctuation

we find it when the rain stops,

light comes through.                       yesterday morning

looked nice.

said he didn’t watch it much while things are unsettled

over there


a poor choice of word maybe

perhaps not alarmist.


we asked if he referred to the war

which we consider affects us all


he nodded then sat down in his garden chair