It is morning and
I decide to go to bed
as midnight recedes.
The early watches are cold
and I am alone out here.
7/9/10
‘Chattering’ sparrows
and ‘laughing’ kookaburras —
foolish, wishful words
in our human loneliness.
(They don’t really laugh or speak.)
9/9/10
invisible now
the other side of the dark
the ocean expands,
its limitless breadth stretching
its endless line advancing
14/9/10
In the dark wood
the path to the stream
is closed.
A tiny fern finds light
from its rock crevice.
Inspired by some of John Palcewski’s photos
21/9/10
morning overcast
the paper undelivered
or stolen
my cat’s off her food
and I’m feeling old.
28/9/10
the fog lifts
to a sunny morning
and good news
I read over breakfast
in bed with man and cats
29/9/10
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