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we ‘develop the stoop’ in the cottage through each door
we sit round the drop-leaf table in the corner elbows down

                                          I carry the mug of tea barefoot up the steps
                                          between upturned horse shoes and trailing plants

                to the patio surrounded and besieged by so many
                colourful plants each one self-contained and unknown

I sit and read of Plath’s life constricting like
an iris around the darkness so hard to achieve

                                            I sit with cushions behind but the chair is so hard
                                            I sit on the cushions but the chair leans back too far

and in between each breeze which scuffles the presence
of each plant the low traffic of cloud makes its way

                           slip above the rooftops orchestrated grey and white
                           tectonic a-glide under the spinal vapour trails and deeper up

                                          the mountain ranges immovable on the edge of horizon
                                          while swifts test the chasm of sky





being & clouds wormhole: Saturday
breeze & rooftops wormhole: afternoon 290613
Castleton wormhole: poetry
doors wormhole: anatta
eyes & reading wormhole: the strange mauve relief of / this burgundy-gritty encounter
feet wormhole: bell
grey wormhole: promenade
holiday wormhole: holiday
horizon & Sylvia Plath wormhole: thar she perched
identity wormhole: you fail
life wormhole: 32 years
living & white wormhole: where to find it
sitting wormhole: here
searching wormhole: losing the anxiety
sky wormhole: waiting
table wormhole: twisted / pulled / and chipped
tea wormhole: dawn