I have more notebooks
Of a similar style
Presumably purchased
From the same vendor
I also have a memory
Of a clear, see-through Lamy pen
Bought for the first collection
I have quite a good number
Of pens and pencils
That is to say very many
Yet, yes always a yet
Yet I know not of where
That first pen resides
It is, so it seems, a mystery
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I have been reading
Love begins in winter
By Simon van Body
In the end notes
He tells how to find a story
In which he says
First you have to visit a new place
Stay in a new hotel
Discover your new surroundings
Meanwhile I listen
To Bill Nighy
Standing in for Iggy Pop
If you think this is
Indulgence might I add
That I had prawns and chocolate
Which did not
Set off
My glucose alarm
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I had a choice
I chose to change
We all have our own voice
We do not have to stay the same
And now perhaps
It’s time to rearrange again
To release the ties and straps
To wash away the imperfect stain
Although I know it’s also true
However I do remain the same
I carry my obsessions with the blue
I write the words to say your name
Wet mid-winter
Raindrops fall
From skies dull grey
Yet the sleep time
The dreams, rightly
Alive with energies
Now it’s coffee break
But not Americano
Instead instant with cream
Yet the though time
The contemplations
Inflective for love
Skeletal tree
Wavers in the breeze
Half-way in
Also very soon
Half-way out
Such freedom
Such joy
Such happiness
Gifts given
Gifts received
Gifts shared
Now the ironing
The cleaning
The cooking
Such pleasures
Such gratitudes
Such playful wanderings