Which makes the outdoor seating
Slightly less than comfortable
It is the coloured water
Which keeps the birds away
From the shallows of the pond
It is the grand homemade sandwich
Which says to stay outside
Though I know I should be inside
And so soon I shall make that move
As the last bites of the apple
Are taken and consumed
The tea is heated in the microwave
A fig biscuit is placed on a plate
The sunlight’s trickery is forgotten
Sat at my indoor desk
I notice my neighbour’s patriotic flag
Which waves vigorously
What was a breeze is now a wind
What was a mighty fine lunch
Is now within the digestive tract
A lunchtime then to remember
If not one exactly
To go right to the core of my memory
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