, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,




                           because I am tired
                           from a restless night

                           I sit in the coffee shop
                           and watch the traffic

                           filter in starts and fits through
                           the mini roundabout outside

                           under the dripping rain
                           which ‘dings’ in and out

                           the door occasionally and
                           unrhythmically so much that

                           I cannot find the proper
                           end to this poem





being & settling & sound & windows wormhole: practising
coffee shop wormhole: t w e n t y f i r s t c e n t u r y l i f e
doors wormhole: across the room / through the patio doors / through the conservatory windows / at the bottom of the garden / the still bifurcated trunk of / the oak / before the let-grown hair and fringes / of the fir tree / blown every lifetime in a while by the winter sun // actually
passing wormhole: through the window
rain wormhole: still waving!
sleep wormhole: update
writing wormhole: as they wish