we are little things
that dance in the mornings
james
by the light of the phone….

putting words in my mouth
like sweet sultanas in chocolate

they come in twos

saw you fallen
&
photographed you



yet could not save you
nor
any of them

you are a metaphor

i

remember privet road down in winton

those days after the war

the second world war that is


though it feels like folk are at war

always somewhere

maybe we should look after things

and our people


anyway there is a privet plant in the corner of the garden

down by the water pumping station


they want it cut and i want it tidy

so we comprise as i love the smell

of the small white flower come annually


i shall rake the leaves and have made a sign ready

privet corner

it is not a hedge like my grandma had

just a privet plant

you may already have the things you need.

just look.

it may be that it is
small
neat and shiny.

know of it and recall the music

and format especially


we only had radio at first

for me the thrill came with

journey into space


then later from behind the sofa

dr who I think

not our sofa
i was staying away a while

a bit posh with fresh dates and ginger

snacks
and paying tenants in the lower flat

they said apartment


you know

i liked it there


we have a complete set of the current

version

and the doll


it is a saga

though

hope all is well today at yours?


the graveyard is cut, the flowers down and gone to the compost


We have changed from yellow and white to green


 again


it will grow


and they wonder over  the need for control


any how it is my sunday off again  yet I must stop  saying that for I do not work no more


hope your day comes interesting

a challenge to describe   these trees as suggested

the gentle good,  dawel disgyn,  little time

left, nor funds for flying.

take note of the numbers,
especially those with 9, as
in 29.

the page is speckled,
left unread mostly these days,

carefully we drew her out
all tidy with reason, wearing
us down

is it the coldest place?

no shelter, only the doorway.

she let her friend warm there while the lady opposite hid by the wall

for the 30

was travelling the other way and watched the birds

fly

over

the chapel adorned with those spikes to deter them sitting

except there

where

it perched

vocally celebrating.

corbett hotel stands empty still

deteriorating.

twelve years.

i calculate the time
divided by the difference

then i pass by the village

you wave again.

look the same, only

everything is changed

again.

mr blue coat man

walks early


mr water man works at dwr cymru


i have a long surname and usually

give my first name even having to spell that and hope that will suffice without the other ones

i hear it comes shorter in the village


some many many years ago

it started

and i remember them

the names


mrs wrap around apron

the falling boy


never said in public

a family language

fascinating
watching the stain spread,
red drops as blood.

salted.

yet when
she said my friend looked pretty
&
that I smelled nice
I sagged a little.

later that day
i found a message
request
from a soldier in the usa
holding a puppy & a rose
calling me a beauty

i slept late

due to the covers

early sunday


traffic back to usual from lockup

which came quiet


we went down along the river

a new route to hear the cockerel

to find the little flowers

plus evidence from the night before


she remarked that animals spread disease

as do people just as much as we have noticed lately


they say they feel safe

yet

that don’t mean they are



the zoo is back open again today

have a nice star symbol on the forecast
six sided
and while I hear rain now
on the cat slide
know there will be no walk early
again

have tear drop symbols too
which is correct so a good
job done here yesterday

it would be no good today

cat howled as i put her out
she slept on the dining room
table again

all the telling that the uncut moquette
is most comfy
goes unheard

preferring dark wood

each day I wash and polish
hoping for a change in attitude

i have stories on the shelf
may write them one by one
some day

as

yesterday I verbalised some

the job sounds fine
out and about

he liked that
the freedom

is that feeling that comes of an autumn afternoon at a particular moment just before the squirrel arrives timely

for food

that feeling that arrives with the name of the county

the memory of your home and closeted life
now eroding slowly

that sense of belonging to the land

it is that feeling

…that

is the little things that excite, even
in the height of summer, low look
for seeds, small flowers studded
in hedgerows.

handbag, not fit for any purpose than
delight and design.

it can become obsessive
this watching the news in your country

it may be an obsession
this tidying of drawers
in the warm rooms
only

these things do pass the time
while we stay at home
as directed

walking early
so as not to see no one
only that cat
and various squirrels

it may be a habit writing
here
each day

hearing your news
on tug hill

or maybe an act of solidarity james

here on the night watch,
all is quiet , no birds sing.

touched by the small thing,
softly, we drew together,
with words, and gestures
in air, in mind.

some of us manage
to be vulnerable as naked
in private

some need holding up
in sight from my window

initially it was said
that secondly should be
second and initially
should be first

i was confused that
nobody said third
and comforted
by the sound of fourth
a
memory of moth

painted my mug in happy yellow
drawn by the name not just the colour

and oh that name come true
on opening jim

are having a new bus shelter on the bangor route hurrah….with digital.


after sheltering under a twig nigh on 30 years will now be dry.


went to aberystwyth yesterday and there is no shelter that way

no twig and all the bus windows were open for the covid

**

today is the asda van

substitutes steak type pies with chicken type…..

then subs chicken type pies with steak type

vegan…



bread instead of bread

it came gradual some time back

no one memorised the date

at all

not at all

we felt it was not right especially

the day on the bus, remember?

over time with help from friends and durability

all came better again.

special thanks to those mentioned.

#doll
#starry

‘ you mean it were the settings that was wrong ‘

yes.

‘so it was all your imagination?’

yes.

day of small things,

slowly steadily worked

as we rest the dust motes,

shine as gold.

liking rags
i move on
with differing
music

the trial by glass

the bird landed gently

hardly there

was noted that some folk aren’t bothered and carry on without looking
the difference is a thing

quiet slow and uneventful
it left lasting impressions
a simple drawing out

where is the power house,
metal books he said.

concrete palaces for those
that prey.

he grew it plant like,
fought it,
numbered it
thirteen.

did you edit your question?

did you change your mind?

shall explain
anyhow

a good artist who taught for extra
a new kitchen at the french farmhouse and other things

taught as required for copying  so we all looked the same

though some added bits and embellishments which caused remark

while the space between lines was so immense my head came heavy with drowsy

fell off

&

i did not return

it is a complex thing
to work out the best

thing to do
way to be

sometimes is best to do nothing
wait and see
let it be

some mornings the air feels clearer
than others

across the village  a dove turtles  and coos
while lorries pass on the bridge

along the edge, the edge
of season. the coast with
slow limits.

the glass anomaly
swept the edges
golden, in proportion.

taught as required for copying  so we all looked the same

though some added bits and embellishments which caused remark

while the space between lines was so immense

adrift, will the sky at last explode, or will this hate

continue pointlessly, for  thousand thousands years.

numbers that cannot describe each particle of pain.

told you, no one will listen if we are quiet,
they have all lost interest’

yes.

‘do they only listen to loud folk , those that  shout
and remonstrate’

seems so.

duck egg blue
the ironmongers in town
at three seventy nine

we can walk there and back or there
and bus back you see

you know
all neat and patterns with orange
usually

sometimes we say gosh or my goodness
a phrase used much in subtitled korean dramas

which what I like

they say it ain’t seemly to cuss
at this age and present gender

though I really like
******
as a little word

they say it is safer out of doors
that it does fade after a few days
though he thought it lived forever

blimey

the second visitor in a while

later the top were sawn off
tidy

ready to balance the collected
stone

james

being corrected
being predicted

listen, repeat the
random insects.
stitch another way.

'you mean it were the settings that was wrong ‘

yes.

‘so it was all your imagination?’

yes.

all kicked off yesterday

late afternoon and i shall remember

it well, for i wrote it in the diary which sits on the kitchen table open

a habit started in lockdown as keeping things entirely to oneself is usual yet conflicting with the need to identify happenings

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

so yesterday it all kicked off at halls and with my upbringing being blamed knew this will be all be my fault too

i wrote it in the diary with an asterisk

this is a little model.
of how it was then.

it may be full of
metaphor.

wind blows round our houses,
here.


wide walls hold  back, draughts
fan the fire. clean welcome air.wind blows the sea into town

Shoreline would be more an exploration of the concept….shorelines more related to actual examples…..how about that?