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Saturday …

April 9, 2016

I woke at dawn, chilly

Duvet half on and off

Pillow hanging on for dear life.

It has been a icy night.


My bottle, cold, rubber blubber,

A beached whale overcome by a previous storm.

She will take breath when the tide turns.

He serves no purpose, now,

Plops ungracefully to the floor with thud.


There is a hint of birdsong,

Discordant with the tinnitus.

I put my fingers to my eyes

Where last mornings hung an itchy crust

Blepharitis, a mean infection is improving.


But the back, not my back

That was supple and pain free for a week or so.

The other, stiff

Not grumbling yet

Will when I venture out for tea and yoga.


… I wasn’t going to tell that sorry …oops I did! Have a good dayaitch







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