…the sign on the platform read
provoking that bloody-minded reaction
he saw as proof of living a life
still worth it, worth everything
worth going to bed
with a stranger once more
here might be the place
that could throw things up
burn the throat, whet the tongue
revive, refresh, rekindle
the screech of parakeets
colonising plane trees in the park
after-dark sounds on full reverb
in daylight on streets
of colour, black to white all blood
everyone from anywhere
who’ll do something, anything
no more bi this
no more buy that
stop and search me, why don’t you
I’m game as road-kill
as smart as street crime
as sharp as a wife
given half-a-clue to step out
and start out anew
n.b. Day 3 here is how the cards fell when I cut the deck: whet, game. (For TC).
Less of a fork, more like a maze
Cul de sac, u-turn, or roundabout route
Chris-crossing cities, wandering wild
A rambling nose for amuse-bouches and side dishes
A taste for sharp turns, an eye for live mains
Which road is not travelled when most have been tried?
Still working the start menu, rebooting worn shoes
Still with a pulse and nothing to lose.
n.b. Day 2 prompt: A road not travelled…
Another sunset. What’s great about that?
Gold, cold, darkness approaches.
Day’s end and time to struggle with the night.
I want, I need, I long to see another sunrise.
Picture that! Another sunrise.
Not much to ask,
Clocks have changed to British Summer Time. The Sun has come out. A strong southerly wind brings warmth to Norfolk.
People are out and about, the sound of children playing in the local park competes with goldfinches, blackbirds, chaffinches and the blue and great tits. An otter has been seen in the Wensum nearby and a large seal has come up river from the sea to nose around the old wharfside.
Daffodils, primroses jostle for attention, bluebells are preparing to make an entrance.
A day to savour. Not the end of Lockdown 3, but a step towards another way of living.
n.b. And I have just seen two bats spinning by my windows.
One foot in front of the other. Steady rhythm, pacing out the afternoon. Blackthorn in flower, epitome of hope.
Who’ll help cut me free?
Held back by self-defences.
What is the damage?
n.b. Someone? Anyone?