gantries 

i squirrel away a thought

for tomorrow

 middle age spread

exercising my prerogative 

downhill from here

 the bachelor 

mowing the lawn

for his mother 

 at the crossing

the conversation changes to

chattery clack chattery clack 

 mum’s funny sayings

wrapping me in a welsh shawl 

as the nights draw in

 freezing sundown

the peaks darken in turn

as the lights come on

sudden rain

rushing across the road

i am bewildered 

the cat stretches

ritual belly scratching

defies time

censored 

a cork pops to the surface

and flies 

 ‘late town final !’

the cocky paper boy 

splits the pub

 outside my window

autumn’s soliloquy 

the final act 

wind

leaf mouse leaf mouse

wind 

robin

robin robin robin robin

what are you pecking

magpie

magpie magpie magpie

flight fight

nothing

depends on the grey wheelbarrow 

how sad is that 

 between 

five and seven syllables 

six poets

 cross 

leave your anger

in the ballot box

 old age

my doctors are dead

my teachers are dead

their false lessons proscribed 

deal with it