Sat
With my arm on the warm radiator
Waiting
For my tea-time meal to be served
There you have it
In my 65th year
Not too too cold too too often
Not too too hungry, or anywhere near
So, a charmed life
Do I hear you say
Or an ordinary life
For those who know me better
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I ought to write
About the light fading
About the wind turbines
Slowing down
About the frost
Laying deep, and crisp, and even
I ought to tell you
That this is the top
Of the Pennines, near to
My forefather’s roots
That nearby are still
Some of my family
I could tell you
That as I sat, in those
Spare few moments
And after
A calm conversation
With my eldest son
I had an empathy
For everyone who
Feels themselves
To be alone
Or feels themselves
To be lonely
I know that the emerging
Darkness, and the loss
Of the horizon
Will do little
Or nothing at all
To relieve their pain
I have all but completed
My Christmas shopping
Cards, and gifts
For family and friends
Who, through my sixty-five years
Have mostly spared me
From the emptiness of loneliness
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The light was cold
The wet tarmac
Reflected the sun
Causing me
To close my eyes
This is December I thought
Late on in my life
Yet I feel
Way younger
Than those about me
The mornings pain
Is in the very centre
Of my upper back
Just below
The neck line
The day is calm
Although
The tea bags are split
And have made a mess
I send an email to complain
The wild green moss
On next doors
Rickety shed roof
Glistens, as do the catkins
Which wave in the breeze
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I saw a pen and ink sketch
Of William Burroughs
It was in a pop-up art exhibition
In Hull’s old fruit market
I looked at the sketch several times
But there and then I did not buy it
Yet, next day, back at home
The image was still on my mind
I found a likeness online
A photograph in the guardian magazine
Fronting an article about the aforesaid Mr Burroughs
Addictions; I thought this to be the base for the sketch
Further investigation turned up Matt Hopper’s page
On Etsy; the print was for sale, I made the purchase
A well wrapped parcel arrived in a couple of days
Along with the sketch a card with a website address
I followed the trail, to find a well worded artist
Who had lived a long time alone, perhaps too long
On a council estate with historic roots; sometimes
You see you do get way more than you bargained for
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Twisted trees
Sunlit branches
Frost one inch deep
On the car roof
Blue sky
Almost cloudless
Frost one inch deep
On the shed roof
Birds in flight
Also in evergreens
Frost one inch deep
Reveal garden footsteps
Sun behind me
Also to the side
Frost one inch deep
On the turning tide
Peace and quiet
I’m all alone now
Frost one inch deep
On remembered minds
Shadows on chairs
Shadows on tables
Frost one inch deep
Outside by the Stables
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