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 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

Image
There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words
Read more

A Candle Lit

Image
We live by the light of those we love, whether they are here or gone. That light is inextinguishable. To have the light and not the company is an adjustment process we call grief. Loss is a shadow, equal to the light. We adjust not to lose the shadow but to see both. Hard to bear - yet without darkness, light cannot show its full wonder. Let us look after each other, then, and value our days, our company, and live to leave vast shadows, and understand that pain is a strange gift, a tender, haunting, purposed gift. And if you are grieving: let your tears flow, let your anger shout, let yourself plead and deny and feel terrible: it is not an easy process.  Know that other people know grief.  Know that other people are hurt to see you grieve.  Know that love is a fundamental response. There is no time limit to this adjustment process. No right or wrong way to feel. One day you will stand back and see that the shadow is proof to the strength of the light, a
Read more

Spring Is Ticking

Image
It has been a while since I wrote a blog post - I have been writing books, and keeping a diary, the days and the work aren’t lost, just ticking quietly in a corner. [There’s a little dust in that corner but the shelf is made of strong oak planks, and the light is enchanting. A plant grows in a pot, it spouts leaves. A half candle stands in a china holder.] At Paddock Garden (properly titled Paddock Garden Orchards, I am a lazy typer) a tree corral has been constructed. It contains persimmons which may not have survived the recent cold blasts and heavy rain, along with some happy pepper trees, bladdernuts, and plum yews. We plan to underplant and interplant extensively in this concentrated area. Around the grounds also we have begun some windbreak hedges, mostly of elaeagnus and hazel. We have a line of sapling native oaks edging the spinney. The first of our camping bay areas is growing emerald grass that was seeded last autumn; the second has recently been seeded; the last three need
Read more