Smile

The bright curve of the waning moon smiles at me from the bare branches 
like the disappearing Cheshire Cat 

Saturday morning

Daughters out with their daddies;
they bring bikes with tassels, 
companionable teddies and yellow balloons.

Queue

A disconsolate line drapes itself over the railing 
that leads to the callers office door.
They are still there when I walk back four hours later.

postcard

I've found a country where it's acceptable to eat a whole plate of hummus, more than once a day. I think I'm never coming home. 
(Postcard from Jerusalem)

Lavender

up and down the paths I brush against the lavender bushes
and carry the traces with me on my skin

Missing Jacob

his name on the back of a postcard
in a child's handwriting
somehow just the way he used to write it

kettles

seven kettles 
in various stages of decay
lined up against the fence
like memorials 
to all those moments
when a cup of tea 
was all you needed

late start

at 6 am cycle path users acknowledge the early hour with a brief nod
by seven thirty it's business as usual and no one meets your eye

Rain

A blackbird makes vociferous objection
to a sudden downpour.

gravity

as I waft the empty bag
infinitesimally tiny grains of flour float out
and drift down into the brass bowl of the weighing scales

ducks

all the other wildlife
skitters or flutters from my path
three ducks sit
unflustered and unperturbed

more snails

on damp mornings
I do a wide slalom along the path
to avoid the meandering snails