In fact, I said I didn’t.
Today was something eh?
Productive as melting icicles
I miss the noise and the routine
I’m sleeping in too late
My eyes ache from the glare of the screen and my hands are cramping
Tomorrow, I will look at the fry in the tank and imagine your excitement
I will bury my resentment under an excess of printed material and signed applications
I will look forward to the fact that my meeting was cancelled
I will relish the hour and spend it outside the door
My heads in my hands and my eyes are closing
It’s too late to what they are asking
I worry that come September there will be empty pages
My muse has gone on holiday and my own bags are packed
The aniseed smell is retreating
And their unexpected kindness was unexpected
I don’t want another day like today
Productive as melting icicles
And as cold
Part of me is walking up a windswept hill to reach the broken tower
My fourteen-year old self-trailing behind
Memories fresh as warm milk
Sheep fleece caught in barbed-wire fences
I have been gone too long.
I must try harder
