Home 7

This is for you
For the times I give you

13p in spare coppers
And you sing with delight.

We both know
I hate a pocket of coins.

You dance and whoop
And rush over to your pot

That looks like a cremation urn,
Slide your loot in the slot.

I'm sorry.
I had to cancel the life insurance.

~ ~ ~

It is the season for visiting
and the season to sit in the dark

Room after room
I forget who they are
for a cup of tea
and a biscuit

Drip drop of a tap

Bevelled edge of wall mirror
the moon

Someone big
climbs the stairs
rattles a lock

~ ~ ~