the mountains here

a home, a refuge plain

and simple things, the ordinary

become as sacred in our life

became slightly nervous looking up
at it
retreated to the studio

his uncle grew golden rod
lived by the chapel, died a
few years ago

i thought him a quiet gentle man

winter brings
blind mountain soaked,
peat bogged, sulking
in wet cyclists, heaven colour
of gold on grey again.

he clears the leaves each day
from formal lawn
looks up
as i look at him,
a glimpse
outside .

good is in the small things.
.
pat says.

small thing  ragged who knows all of it

pieces torn away

or

is it a moth here in the dark?

triangles bring mystery

a new mathematics



the rooms were swept yesterday

bones hidden

teeth implied



yet the shape remains embedded

stood steady in wonder

watched the dark bleed

across the sky

watch birds scatter

the clouds waiting as you
say

there are many to fascinate
give them names and fluff

becomes fact
a place one can recognise

time is limited these days. those one admired in youth devastate us now.   can we know all things, we only went twice ?

tapering off into dots repeated
the fall is abrupt and possibly dramatic

just stand and watch the season change, note the dew and separate ideas.  

remember that you stand alone. are not alone from                                                  criticism and contradiction.

the idea left us dancing.
use what is already there,
make do and mend

she sat on

the kitchen chair out back

in the sunshine

dressed plain except the floral

pinafore

lips tight of concentration

she cut beans for dinner

runners from up the garden

i watched and remembered

.oh.

in the dark

in the night

you like birds?

as do i

neither of us employed
&  i am vaguely idle

you notice small things too
and record them slightly

those touches, nuances
do you see the way they
glance, look aside…

some thing is changing here,
so slight it can hardly be
noticed.

yet it has been.  a feeling,
came with the light rain .

the quietness

all things are changing

as he left the garden
he said they may be working nearer home now.

so,
must we write about it before we forget,
before  people come and disagree?

they have small waists and a  national costume

large rocks
fenced off yet
maybe i will
creep through
and touch
one quiet day

one stone
one finger touch
a ritual

was dark blue with a little red added
lasted two weeks and still prominent

(or the timetable)

some places there is an order
of service
a timetable

it was cold in the night so we
all huddled in like it was a single
bed

when it is double

we make a nest
and warm up

i have a pet fly now

whose name is almond
so I call him marc
as an endearment

yesterday google said he
will live for 0.8 years
this morning she said two weeks

i have not seen him today
perhaps he is still to sleep?

the bear will cry out at 11pm……

sadly

did you find a pin there, did you pick it up and stick it?   did you stay safe, wrap the shawl around and hold    it   close?        did you see my life breaking, bring me pins for mending? …

there is news from the village

some is good and all there is tidy.

while some comes shocking and hard

to bear

james.

fighting the predictions

the pattern remains the same,
the sentences longer. this is not an issue, and is
accepted gratefully.

they say that the latter will bring immense relief,
to try it consciously.

black crow bird

sits on fence

#resting

red depleted.i use blue,
oh the darkness of it all,the surface tension,

primeval scream
hidden by centuries of crimson

courage to walk away
from objects that irritate
our eyes, to eat another way,
with snakes and camphor oil.

you know what i mean

yet there are paths,

walked, not just

by one or two.

or rabbits.


have young feet run here,

or solitary folk, thinking,



watching light hit water

481.

no bus arrived the timetable lady was contacted and she explained the bus was due at 2.30 pm that my internet were wrong and no one was bothered what it said at bus stops

you like birds?

as do i

neither of us employed
&  i am vaguely idle

furlough ended &  was
invited back part time

you see i said no

& despite protestations
seem to enjoy

for now a bus ride
and coffee

for it is raining a little

james


8.30

we miss you if you do not visit
a while

and we get all our tenses and lines
wrong and have to go back in a hurry

to amend

wore a bonnet
when very small

with matching coat and gaiters

she bought them from the shop on the corner

then the earache brought a wolly thing

that should be woollen

if one can spell right

i hated it and took it off


7.49

can you fly from the window up into the hills where the trees are sawn down now

or maybe they used the machine

he was correct you know about the work along the estuary being drainage

the cut is ready
ditch is deep
mud banked

do you become tiny
walk there in mind

find the chosen pathways
watch the birds and wild
flowers grow

below the scene plays out
the dead
with wildlife as punctuation

some make mistakes

i do and avoid the capitals

main thing is to weather the storms
and visit daily

i too lean slightly

maybe

is was dark blue with a little red added

lasted two weeks and still prominent.

much has happened since

high, mountain track,
scattered trees, country
road.

spend the day , waterlogged
moor, black rooted, bring it home.

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

becomes larger as time moves on.
it started early, with greek poetry,
the radio, which played all day.

things come awry and we leave it so

the random nature of things

faintly corrupted

there is nothing quite like changing stuff,

you see he always came on tuesday, but then

we started writing that day, so he will come

on thursday each month.

hesitate again
look down

regret my first sentence
now

maybe will say it some other time
now

or is it the air changing?

mood settles, or is it the
time of year?

down the centre of town
an avenue in fall

and the day came divine

sea swim
is saturdays at ten in the morning,


sundays later at eleven.


this too remembered in the bathroom.
we use the pool, mainly.

we wonder how it will map
out

we have wondered before
when waking to a misted world

feels like autumn now, cat is in, windows misted.

a challenge to describe   these trees as suggested

the gentle good,  dawel disgyn,  little time

left, nor funds for flying.


tiny things become intimate


you may put them in cases, or hang on pins

straight or safety, it becomes political

the choice is yours


bulldog clips


you are the curator.


maybe things are red with black

today

this is a little model.

it may be full of
metaphor.

there is nothing quite like changing stuff,
you see he always came on tuesday, but then
we started writing that day, so he will come
on thursday each month.

who knows what lies underneath

here the land goes up and down

water drains

into rivers

the coffee affair with pods and seasons is recordable
into a small book, a journal of morning feelings while


i use a spoon for instant gratification . the modern
is much improved on the old ways