flat down there nearer by the sea
where all hope is abandoned  via the councils

voted for

where it was decided to buy the higher house
in both scenarios

with grit and slight gusto

things come in layers
and differing shades

he taught us in painting class

step by step until drowsy

so we opened the windows
decided not to return again

is flat down there  nearer the sea
we sat and watched the train come in
admired the white horses grazing afar

birds played on the fences

dry he wore the white dress
though
his hair curled damply

we drew him
we painted him

he is taller now & remains
much the same

comes a differing hue
with duck egg blue

the ironmongers in town
at one seventy nine

duck egg blue
the ironmongers in town
at three seventy nine

we can walk there and back or there
and bus back you see

mainly red,

comes a differing hue
with duck egg blue,

the ironmongers in town
at one seventy nine

talk goes on all day, about the heat,
the rain and drizzle,
no thoughts on the shipping
forecast. words red, remembered.

the bird, the boy, the machine,
there is only air between.

tides are higher now, flooding the paths. he walked the mud, bringing the footsteps back to us

have you walked the dunes

hollowed path, coconut gorse.

have you found contentment there?

have you sat the sun, black crow bird.

have you closed your eyes at that

within, enjoyed that

without?

now your name may be redeemed
your wanderings freed into new

adventures

was mentioned that people turn it back to themselves

tried it and found it so

that or not showing care
for the deep ness of it all

maybe i shall not go to dunster again

after all

and shall miss it

&

more

will miss you…..

.note. i never did pronounce dulverton as dulverton…

black rook, flies over white moon

the anxiety failed later in the day


a more comfortable place as i
watched other peoples ways and
opinions

we saw the lights in the village

dreamed of devastation,           flew miles        low
over concrete .   skeletons,      bones of the thing.
all is dust, as dust we have become.                 slow.
grey.

each morning, each morning write to you
as if you are here

still

as if talking to you still

look to the window , see the grass is cut again
flowers gone

still wonder

where you are

or nowhere?

look out again , see green cherries on the tree

best to be gentle with those and all other things…

comes at night he said

the bleakness

we noticed it that day and found it omninous.

february 2019

the sea is quiet as we have never seen it

sun as hot as it gets

like summer



they gloried in it

the bathers

the media



we watched



while the ice melted.

early yet
I have to tell you
that
i went a different way
to avoid the usual

i told him when he asked about dinner
with his sister

we laughed and the wind blew things
away

i guess you were working with it being monday
even though it felt like sunday
yesterday
here

it was day something of second lockdown
day something else of isolation living

though single living allows visits for our
mental health

i told him when he asked about dinner
with his sister

we laughed and the wind blew things
away

his wood is ready outside in wheelbarrow
mine in bags from the store

radiators in the bedrooms
and the other rooms too

best keep this factually
correct

instead of poetic

james

it feels cave like this time of year

while often we add grated apples

look at you promoted from the use for which you were designed

a white enamel was desired
yet a galvanised was ordered

and though come lovely also
came too big for the space so

used to carry in the exotic logs
which help the environment and
crumble on the floor otherwise if
not contained somehow

the problem continued upstairs
so we moved you there yesterday

a new chapter
a new purpose

you succeeded nicely

i too reflect this story
start a new chapter
without purpose

really

and accept the predictions
as they seem to come correct

it was not a thought as such
more of a knowing

there is a photograph

come random

move them into a place
of loose adjustment

random offerings

careful what you dream on a cusp of night. know that all stars are not the same

seen  through the net nightly

along the edge, the edge
of season. the coast with
slow limits.


the glass anomaly
swept the edges
golden, in proportion.

know of it and recall the music

and format especially


we only had radio at first

for me the thrill came with

journey into space


then later from behind the sofa

dr who I think

not our sofa
i was staying away a while

a bit posh with fresh dates and ginger

snacks
and paying tenants in the lower flat

they said apartment


you know

i liked it there


we have a complete set of the current

version

and the doll


it is a saga

though

yes.



i am sixty years older than you, think on that.



my mother’s name was madge, her mother

magdeleine, your grand grand parents.



it is said that i have learned more than you,

yet today   you come  wiser than i.



boy.

those days we went each year
watched them drive through the
village first

oh the excitement
waving

only they did not come last year
of course and i guess they will

not again this year

i would not mix with a crowd now

would you james?

when I was a kid the elephants
came by train and there was a
procession from the station
through town with performers

all waving

i was scared of the lions and other
creatures

not the elephants nor the clowns
james

i loved them both
and still do

1°
overcast

this can be an abbreviation it seems for the era according to predicted


unlike the clothing all starchy ruff and farthingales


nothing at all to do with dental hygiene


and I understand there were lots of rats about
for fat was used for a multitude of things
besides eating


anyhow we done the draft

then turned it round about


a few more hours fiddling
and it may suffice
with a double eff

pale words a clue in the breathing
the stone set left in barns

caught the words hopefully in burning hands thinking that the sky was clear

though in the past
never so far away

some thing is changing here,

so slight it can hardly be

noticed.

yet it has been.  a feeling,

came with the light rain .

the quietness

all things are changing

a need to wipe it away.



a tear, a memory pinned,



until we repeat the instruction

to erase, replace, white wash.





the window smeared, is clean

again. with soap and sanctity



washed, aired, ready



for another day.

google when back at home, read about
people, and know we may after all
be twins.

hoping all went well, that it was a good event

enjoyed by all

that you ate nice
enjoyed the day

ours are all late summer and autumn
in a row

one has an event
the others don’t really

there is a box here with all his stuff
the other life

i got it down yesterday and read
it all again

in the morning
in the afternoon

i did some painting

on warm afternoons i sit on the terrace
in the sun reading

looking up to watch the washing move

trying to concentrate
on climbing

crampons heavy

we slowly move upward

while laundry dries nicely
on the line

not yesterday though
nor today for we have a storm with no name

and you guessed it Jim , I am aiming  for the summit  of

everest

James

serendipidy
all is honesty
i have a witness.

evidence produced.

never mind also hoping the thing
has passed

he said they had a book of meaning
i asked google
who misheard or mis
understood

thought it was a reference to cost

when so many have paid

quietly we felt it would not be unseemly
nor respectful this time

with so many lost
one way and another

james

how are you this morning
early

think i may like to travel to small places,
old and full of history. deep aged fabrics
stained with the words of time. to touch

it all a dream, or facts
in reality, made of mind.

all stone residue haunting.
our life. will we very know
forever wandering?

search hill

you came again in auto fill

last evening sat alone



we still cannot understand

there is no explanation for that

nor what you did



you are a ghost to us now

fading



we watched it on tv

you came again in auto fill

last evening sat alone

we still cannot understand

there is no explanation for that

nor what you did

you are a ghost to us now

fading

we watched it on tv

maybe connections are missed the link dismissed.    
metaphors faint as my flimsy whispers  

look closely

some thing is changing here,
so slight it can hardly be
noticed.

yet it has been.  a feeling,
came with the light rain .

the quietness

all things are changing,

saw you fallen
&
photographed you



yet could not save you
nor
any of them

you are a metaphor

saw you fallen

&

photographed you

yet could not save you

nor

any of them

you are a metaphor

so the falling days,
end today, winter waits,
and the songs, and words,
tunes are all to warm us,
and hold us safe

something happened
everything repeated itself

on the page

lately i find if i bend the screen lightly
all appears back in order

unlike the brother
who appeared in auto fill

who is too deeply here
should predict as it

have you been to the wild wood?

not the one down the lane here
that is private and inaccessible

now

the one down the road by the estuary
is all mossy and twisty paths

which requires a lot of watching the step
and with that comes the discovery of

certain twigs of the right colour and design

during lockup we only saw ours
now come many varieties
to enjoy and at a later day

gather

for now we learn the paths
watch the ways of the wood

while opposite

the wood
men

balance carefully
in orange vehicles

gathering

handbag, not fit for any purpose than
delight and design.

there comes a time when buttons
take on a simple importance

taking on from hooks and eyes

stitched on card.

white threads

cutting,
bleeding the lead
into showers,
and explosive marks.
the power house rears its head again,
pouring images down
like rain.