all the things
visitors don’t remark —
offerings on the sill
a small ritual every morning
the upturned broom by the door …
*
finishing the library books
a three-day feast
of (mostly) very good poetry —
and now my mind
is blank, my pen still
*
He’d love to stop work.
‘Change that conversation,’
I long to say —
as his back pain
gradually gets worse.
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