Heavy Weather
Note: tent in background still looks lively. |
Cat
sits on an upstairs windowsill, watching the storm pounce. It may catch a bird
or two for her. The birds are erratic, jerking like unpractised stunt kites.
Cone
headed Dog is caught in a cross wind, I hold her lead tight but she stays
ground based. Trees grow a voice from the storm, from a whisper to a full
dragon's roar.
In
the garden the big tent jelly wobbles, holds fast, is assassinated by a flying
plank.
Vexing.
On
the road to Bude stretches of glossy black water sidle over the tarmac. They
look sticky and steal all traction.
Note: tent, much smaller now |
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