Continuity

Me and my cat are lounging here again,

enjoying the gentle warmth of mid-Spring

under the porch roof in our back garden,

listening to next-door’s radio sing

cheerful melodious pop – a morning

like so many others, yet each one new ...

old and new – the sun that shone, wind that blew,

clouds that wafted leisurely overhead,

somehow become permanent, though they flew
past; stretching yesterdays, archived not dead.