I always try and sit at the window at this time of the evening when the sun turns all the houses across the road golden and the blackbird is singing his heart out. No photo will ever capture it so instead I have photographed this box which I only actually looked at after I had emptied out my groceries today.
Wednesday Poem
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I’m sorry I want to say and greenhouse and topsoil and basil greens and
cowshit and snowfall and spinach knife and woodsmoke and watering can and
common th...
43 minutes ago
I am imagining a soundtrack of the singing blackbird, squeaking window sash, thump of the book hitting, and swearing cat.
ReplyDelete... I never actually get the cats LX - they're mainly swearing about being revealed to the birds
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