Above the city
in sleepy-headed Spring morn’
birdsong, air force jets
n.b. You would have thought the North Sea was room enough to play in. Why don’t you fly off out there and look for Russian naval ships?
And now the car park curator with the leaf blower. Merde! I can barely hear the jets I was moaning about. What is wrong with using a yard brush with its regular, human rhythm, the sound of birch twigs sweeping a granular surface, jointly calming and healthy exercise?
n.n.b. I miscounted the days. This is Day 47. Thanks for your understanding y’all x