yoga at dawn

japanese anemones 

dropping their petals

 the play is over

    time to act

 true happiness is

dried salt from a sea swim

and a back scratcher

 leaves falling

the rock in silence sits

does time pass

the swimmer

under the yacht

over the moon 

 between the showers

dead-heading geraniums

a crying shame

 a bed of sickness

the warm springs are running cold

i sip my sake 

rainy day

cleaning the mirrors

with a smile  

 busy bees

the postman rushes past 

summer sunshine 

 how pale the light

on lavender after rain

the jiggling days

summer

on my reversing camera

a spider 

 unreciprocated 

love metamorphoses 

into a mirror

 after the storm 

blue sky over the apples

tomato picking

 blowing bubbles

an endless supply of rainbows

life’s ups and downs

the wind is moaning

pulling at the window frames

above a sleeping cat 

 the wind is rising 

last night my friend Lyn died

old age fell asleep 

listen to the pebbles roar

the seething of salty air

 wood chimes

is that your phone or mine

postmodernism 

rickety pier

the best fish are at the end

a child is caught 

 i submit! i submit!

the wrestler bangs the floor thrice

step-over leg-lock

 i am old

the trout stream has become

overgrown 

i am an old trout

the stream is overgrown 

cataracts

 in the morning breeze

night’s candle flickers

we both go out

 summer beach

the boys without girlfriends 

play catch ball

 so nice to sit here

safe in the nest of a book

being fed poems

 the woman helper

at the dog rescue centre

has a name tag

 begonia

ten thousand moons

burning

 wooden wind chimes

is that your smart phone or mine

postmodernism 

 on this day 

something happened 

on this day

 my son visits

and leaves me book

what do i read into that

 apocalypse

the stone voices talk

on an exoplanet

hospice garden

around the dried flowers

seedlings

hospice garden

sitting with the statues

tears will not come 

 look! look!

there goes another one

they are very rare

 for the fisherman

who has caught no fish again

a long walk home 

 oh look

another plum

lobelia 

 bird watching

a plane crashes in brazil 

kids die in a war 

a wet day in suburbia

never mind coffee time soon

medical question 

why do my new hearing aids 

make my ankles click 

 the old man has photographs

 social media

places i have not been to 

arrive at my door

 i am so relieved

the bins have been collected

why is that normal

 sadly we realise

if there was one thing that was it

then that would be it

 high summer window

there is nothing as stupid

as a stupid fly

bin day rain fox

all the shiny black bags

eviscerated  

 awaking then

the poem that has slept soundly

turns to me with a smile

 then there was the man 

watching the television

who missed the meteor

 i drank a coffee

and a chocolate biscuit

writing a poem

i am visiting 

the man who built houses

who is housebound 

                         why 

     4

        2 

 pears

potted plants

panting on the doorsteps

of the dog days of summer 

 blue sky

white clouds 

black crow 

and in the darkness

a spider has been trodden

my remorse is real 

the dogs dig holes

the robin is all eyes 

early bird worms 

 pouring it out

the dead moth flew away

hurrah 

the cat

is stalking a spider

i turn off the light 

 an old man

is talking to an old man

about their youth

 riding the wind

the butterfly travels far

in my tired eyes 

 in the fog

the small lake

becomes a big lake

 one moon

where two streams merge

under dream’s bridge 

crazy golf off course 

keeping score of the years

children and grandchildren  

 crying for the soil

for a summer that is past

a spring refused 

 it is high summer

and the pool has a thick skin

broken promises 

 whoosh

                the breeze through the trees

                                                                            went