If silence cannot catch you

The lean

And thinner coppice

She holds no winds

Or taller stories

Of highwaymen masquerading

As tramps or clowns

Or troubadours

In silks and finest gowns

She’s mean

With rotten poppies

Rescinds gold tops

And Cornish toffees

Of children masquerading

As harlots or darling dares

Or harlequins

In diamanté and laced up squares

I’m keen

But have long forgotten hobbies

I see no cinders about to flair

Or street treading bobbies to care

Of adults masquerading

As lovers with slow light flashes

Or layabouts in sackcloth

And forlorn unborn ashes

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Summer sun descending

To turn you on

To pass you by

The leaves have gone

The sand is dry

Oh me oh my

What am I escaping from

The South West sky

And the dinner gong

It won’t be long

Neither now nor in time past present

The time ahead to turn somehow

And not be unwisely led

To turn you on

To pass you by

The leaves have gone

Is now the time to belie

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Inculcate

It is lunchtime

I have been out

To take a few photographs

Looking at the mist and trees

The small fruit and the fallen leaves

I am back indoors

The radiator keeps me warm

And Poppy Ackroyd’s immersive mix

Keeps my minds attention

Focussed on the lightness of touch

Using the IKEA wooden boxes “knagglig"

For speaker stands has worked a treat

Although I am considering yoga blocks

As an alternative, to allow the boxes

Once more to be used for art material storage

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Calculate

To wonder

How to reach

Beyond here and now

Yes

How to go

Into time

Those thirteen hours

Between your time

And my time

Or those

Fifteen-thousand- one - hundred and twenty

Back to the last time

Imagine

All of that time

Without you

Work it out for yourself

The numbers

Are the easy part

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Projectile

When do we stop doing those things

Which we felt to be so important in the moment

Those activities begun with such enthusiasm

Having found an apparent sense of purpose

Only to find out, days or months later

That the intensity has faded, replaced

Or so I suppose by another, new infatuation

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