Oh drat
a bobble
on the elbow
of my jacket

and drat this life!
this solitary toil
for I shall pick it off
and be done

So, let me rest, untroubled

~ ~ ~

Punch-up at the Writers' Group

She read out her poem

Michael wanted her to make it into a sonnet
Rob wanted her to dig deeper into her feelings

They settled it, man-to-man
outside, in the car park

No idea who won
we'd all gone down the pub

~ ~ ~

The Swarm Has Come

A convenience of imagination
like memoirs, circles in pencil,
a few characters on the cast list

Just the always one

~ ~ ~