Holding together
For fear
Of falling apart
Old shoes of leather
With insoles
For making a new start
Witness the heather
Under blue skies
To practice the art
Doubtful as ever
Yet released here
To play the part
Way less than clever
The solitude
Stays in the cart
Now and then and forever
Reconciled
Only the truth to impart
That this time
Is that of all time
Here alongside The River Dart
Less disappointment
With the writing
When each word
Can be chosen
At will
As if on demand
More difficult
With the sketch
Where every mark
Is out on its own
Not ever
In quite the right place
And so
The artwork
Continues the disillusionment
Along with relationships
And personality
Where every second counts
Sunlight through
The upstairs windows
Back and front
It’s almost like
Being back at college
With plenty time to write
Just two classes
Each week
One for writing, one for poetry
I remember the moment
Distinctly
Yet I have no visual support
I could build a construct
From what I know
Short, white, denim skirt
Short-sleeve cotton top
Almost a tennis outfit
But with way more style
A damp day in Revesby
Slow rain flows down the window pane
I go outside to stop the garden door banging
There is much to do
I put milk in my coffee
Instead of on my cereals
Adobe cannot find my specifications
And neither can I
I watch the video
Projected onto the fireplace wall
I am reminded of the photographs
And eventually find the file-path
A damp day in Revesby
Elements takes eight minutes to render
Although my son tells me, that back in the day
It would have taken at least half-a-life
