The last thread
The final length
Of cotton
From the bog
Into the unknowing
All apparently known
By those who know
Or thought they did
Passing around
Pebbles
And mortar boards
In a minimalist way
Pushing out
Into the morning mist
On a rowing boat
Of your own making
Settling for
A stillness not yet found
Nor likely to be found
Among the forgetful chaos
Everything
Needing to be done
Two times
Say it again
Say it more slowly
Become present with the presence
Lock age door
Turn off the electricity
Put the key in the bowl
Do them all again
But this time
In the right order
And write
Every day
Do not lose your motor-mechanisms
Every day mind you
With the date
So you will know
You will know for certain
The very date
That this thing happened
One
Hugely reflective
Place to sit
With autumn’s sun
Shining
Through the blue blue sky
One
Seriously peaceful
Time to be
In retirement
Now close to its sixth year
If discernment takes me anywhere
One
Not to be forgotten
Series of moments
A whole lifetime of memories
Available for the panorama
To be played on a slow-motion setting
Time wasted, or was it
On the internet
Watching videos
And discovering promotions
To extract the pound
From my pocket
Before that Liz Truss
Renders it completely worthless
In which case
It will be the alms houses
Or the caravan
Or the longboat on the water
October blue skies
October birthdays
October anxieties
October in the fall
Autumn sunlight
Autumn leaf
Autumn welcome
Autumn to top it all
