Dearie me
Posted on February 25, 2010
Need to make more time to blog! It’s definitely a habit thing. I’ve got lots of thoughts and mostly they just take their leave of me in verbal form. But it would be fine to put some more down on paper. Or screen.
Here’s a wee poem in the meantime. I’m a singer and an organiser and a person who thinks, more than a poem-writing person. But I scribbled the following on the bus today and here it is.
Is it?
Is it a long, wide road to Avalon?
And what will we do when we’re there?
Take the bus this morning.
The air in the flat is cold,
but not as cold as it could be.
There is food in my kitchen, extra.
In my kitchen, there are oats and bread.
To the garden – I have a garden.
Small but living.
A mouse in the wood bin.
A high cry. Evolved maybe,
for the need near of danger.
But there is no danger, here.
A walk to the bus,
the kicking of slush.
The brings and rings and mutterings
of fifty winter coats.
Tinny non-sound, me-sound, I-am sound.
The twitching of thumbs.
The turning of pages.
And on the display, the date, the time
Then all unknowingly,
“No RB”.