Where had this warm day been wandering
Under a sky of blue resembling May or June?
The sun moves past the chimney
And shines through the leafless trees.
The deck chair beckons, and a small bird
sings repeatedly in the Pine.
My busy cat returns, inquiringly seeming to say
"Are you just going to sit here?"
What to answer?
There is no other way except by pen and paper
To save this day.
GBP 20ll
