Tuesday 9 August 2016

poetry 2016 / 084

Breakfast

Before work
the TV on Channel Four's show
where the segments were interspersed
with curtains opening to sunshine
even when it was raining outside.
Later, after marriage,
I took cereal in the summer garden
where a patch was fenced off
as a wildflower meadow
full of bees and cabbage whites.
Later still, another house,
where the garden rose above the houses,
higher than the church steeple
and I could watch the sun pick out trees
on the Staffordshire hills.
Now I sit in front of the computer,
reading news headlines and composing haiku
while the old dog looks over my shoulder
hoping for the leftover milk.


© Rachel Green 2016


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