Fractious At The Double Roundabout


The lane is a problem. It looks lovely, it wrecks cars and shoes. We need to be a bit richer to live here, we could get a machine to level out the pot holes. We bought a pick axe but it's a long slow job... However, watching people get fouled by the double roundabout usually restores any lost sense of humour.  











361
Another petit-repetition, as I collect
My sparsely previously packed bag, my coat
My list, kiss Mr on the back of his distracted
Head, push my feet into rubber boots

362
Find the mist trimmed to a
Decorative edge, an embellishment
Rather than landscape disguise. Pheasants
Parade their colours to disinterested sheep

363
Several shapes of leaf bridge
Overhead, I look up, an oak branch
Is cracked, action will be necessary
Before accident or obstruction occurs

364
Drag my boot-soles up the lane terrain
Bumped and pot holed and unpopular
Despite the picturesque nature, but this
Is the view that distracts, that balances

365
Random finds the most
Rewarding; a city of stacked
Mushroom towers
Syfy in my hedge

366
Two cigarette butts, the mass
Produced kind; not stamped on, not stubbed
Dropped adjacent to the empty bottle. Eyes in my
Reflection frown, contemplative

367
I have seen then here before
Factory workers, watching the sky
After twelve hours of putting identical
Pies into identical boxes

368
Barely a rustle from the papery wasp-nest
Two thirds up, in the granite dry-stone
One occupant is returning
Unsure of the weather

369
Here is the top of the lane, step
Out from the leaf roof, onto
Neat line edged smooth levelled
Tarmac; surface calm

370
Here comes traffic getting
Somewhere, stalled
Flummoxed, fractious
At the double roundabout 

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