it is noted that a conversation started on the original comment
with thoughts such as mine which is interesting
yet the first remark darted
and as you may know that we have come to know ourselves better since the isolation so have hidden
A comment that there was a wish for more participants which comes ironic
for now there is one less
while the day was imbolc
so we walked the country paths
noted new green growth and those with country habits
i go rake wet leaves
it 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
oil pond mirrors the darkness the november
day sun draws white against the grey
this leaf lays on earth
you may already have the things you need.
just look.
it may be that it is
small
neat and shiny.
. fragility.
wash the cloth to prove a point.*
it is a fragile thing, hesitant in the making.
never
complete, it hangs by a thread.
. red field.
maybe you will still stay inside a while
within the boundary line
four fields
. choices .
where it was decided to buy the higher house
in both scenarios
with grit and slight gusto
things come in layers
and differing shades
..coast..
along the edge, the edge
of season. the coast with
slow limits.
the glass anomaly
swept the edges
golden, in proportion.
.gentle.
gently go forward, then gently back
recreating past deeds and misdemenours
you thought forgotten.
gently go forward knowing we are mostly
all the same, with motes not spoken of,
except disorder.
gently it passed behind you
.landscape.
the colour comes later, in the studio.
the land reclaimed, is bolder now,
energy splashes.
colour comes, from friends in conversation,
music and sounds, and i eat them
with hunger.
