tram trip

crowds of Saturday shoppers with their umbrellas

part and close up like a school of fish

around the passing tram

rain and sun

emerging from the shadow of the cloud

the sunshine warms my face and

sparkles on the raindrops in my hair

gothic

under a dark menacing sky

a crow caws raucously from the carved victorian finial

hunter and scavenger

two foxes

the first interrupted in the very act of pouncing

the second stealing garbage from two magpies

who watch disconsolately from across the road

tumbling can

in the breeze an empty can tumbles purposefully down the road towards me

it hops neatly onto the pavement for a few yards then hops back down to the road

it goes on past and becomes lodged in the gutter

when I return to the spot it is gone

flies

beautiful in the morning sunshine

a cluster of glistening blue iridescent flies

gather on the corpse of a dead slug

double bass

matching red converses sported by two musicians

one carrys a backpack that, from behind,

disguises him as a walking double bass

reading

morning sunshine is the best light for reading in bed

resisting an afternoon nap

feet up on the sofa, warm and relaxed

struggling against the dark oblivion that

threatens to swallow me up

cyclists

six smooth slick cyclists swoosh past

and leave me plodding down to deepest Didsbury

sunset

the perfect time for a little stroll

with your dad and a green ice lolly

pink

the wrought iron gate is roughly painted

in baby pink and barbie pink

but it matches perfectly the rose in the garden behind