I’m finding it difficult to read these days -

I just can’t seem to concentrate

with everything that’s going on

and I spend most of my time sleeping,

snoozing on the settee

or watching repeats of The Sweeny

(get your trousers on, you’re nicked)

if the weather’s warm

I’ll sit in the garden -

it’s looking better this year since we cut back the hedges -

and the koi are doing well

I could watch them for hours

and I got a nice card

with lots of nice messages

from every-one at work

and a couple of them called in

the other night to see me

but I was just too tired to make much conversation

they bought me some flowers

they’re there on the table

but they won’t last long

they’re already beginning to fade

it’s a race against time to tie up the loose ends

and put things in order

but at least I’ve decided

on the readings and music

he was lying there

huddled up in the subway -

I walked right past him

*

on this morning's news

man found dead in the subway -

I'd walked right past him

a nightly mission

in the garden, in the dark 

hunting slugs and snails

*

plucking them from plants

and dropping them into bags

taking them away

the dust has settled

and dreams have turned to ashes

in the dawn's false light

*

we ask ourselves -

what sort of country is this

where we do not care?

*

the same chaffinch sings

every morning at first light

outside my window

*

was it all worth it -

the energy that was spent

with nothing to show?

a carpet of blue

covering the woodland floor

for just a few weeks

*

stand in awe, you plebs -

here sleep the mighty dead

never more to rise

**

magnolias bloom

under bank holiday sun -

transient beauty

glistening mudflats

jetsam at the high tide mark

peripheral junk

*

a phallic building

a derelict pumping mill

at the water's edge

the thrush on the heath

casting a song of freedom

over prison walls