as eyes seize it
high summer
a fly comes in one door
goes out the other
not a breath
the movement of a bee
in the lobelia
my late father had a last
a fat cat
is watching
a fat pigeon
a childhood
that smelled of ladybirds
trapped in a jar
writing sad poems
in the heat of the moment
i am shivering
listen!
two i said two
twice
the sunday dogs
bite the silence that breathes me
morning clouds over
~~~~~~~~~~ north dock ~~~~~~~~~~
seagull shit and feathered dock-water
~~~~~~~~ steps were taken ~~~~~
ten thousand hands
have polished the railings
coming and going
always one shite gull
slicing a sunday morning
of a salt sea sun
there is no meaning
it’s all just the tickling
of propensity
we are sad to hear of the passing of the euphemism
grey morning
the gulls fall up the wind
where are they going
images of war
what right i to this sorrow
yet i feel so sad
the cat
watched jenny wren
disappearing
jenny wren
had a hunt in the corner
then flew away
blue sky
breathing in a morning
late in July
sunshine
the floater in my eye
follows a fly
between our house
and our neighbour’s house
morning moon
warm dawn
all the tiny flowers
have long shadows
the lonely bone fox
slowly wends its wicked way
through the mausoleum
the crows are in the pear tree perpetrating
season ticket
the bees try every ride
in lavender fairground
hot summer morning
my elderly neighbour
her carpets steam cleaned
red sunshine
a red spider spins its web
in a red geranium
a contrail flew west
a contrail flew east
a seagull landed
spring fresh
the waters of your words
stir the sands
a woman from swansea
swam with a swan
in norway
the poor butterfly
that was in the spider’s web
has escaped with me
vapour trail
going to heathrow
garden breakfast
rain
a seagull standing on one leg
why
gingerly
through the wet lavender
a stray cat
parked up
opposite the prison
a luxury coach
bees in the breakfast garden
the president has been shot
i am shouting out
my hearing aid is working
no need to shout!
the enigma is how enigmas are
global warming
there are so many end points
i wonder which one
the reflection of one hand clapping
morning things
they have been there forever
haven’t they?
a walk seaward
caught in a repeating loop
everlasting life
gentle music
see how the flowers
are lifting their heads
the sun might
even
new hearing aids
oh my creaking joints
i feel years older
mid morning
a fly walks past an ant
warm stone
suburbia
bark infested neighbours
post code K9
studying black holes
he hadn’t seen anything
that others hadn’t
at rest
in a graveyard of euphemisms
fast asleep
on a one crow morning
before the rain
a dawn sea
breathing in and out
at the same time
a graveyard of euphemisms
news
the hanged men
have modern shoes
unless an old man
is in his second childhood
do not believe him
work is not enough
hard work is stipulated
by today’s rulers
an adder swiftly
taking away its gleaming
my wide eyes