Poetry in notions
When you are born you should be presented with a 70-year-diary, every day already filled in, a bright red ribbon tied around the cover. Then, as you work your way through life, you could constantly check where you were up to and what lay ahead. Or perhaps it would be best to leave it closed, … Continue reading Oh, all right, just a peek, now and then
When I was young milk, bread, groceries, newspapers were all delivered to the house every day. Now I have to go miles to a supermarket.
Old age finds you sailing the Sargasso, through scattered “In Memoriam’ notices littering the surface like seaweed.
A crowd, a host, of white and yellow and orange daffodils.