Helm wind You are a wicked, spiteful gust coming here throwing bin lids about. You clatter and rattle, bruising paint and denting, flattening crop heads and shaking branches bare. Dislodging my peace and flipping hair in my face, Why can’t you let me have this calm day? Grit in my eyes, icy fingers down my […]
A quotidian quarrel
Hopes for Indian summer fade…
There it was, the first proper weather of the season. Storm Ali romped across the country causing considerable inconvenience. I had to change my plans and catch a bus. Heaven forfend. Boy Two abandoned his bus stop vigil when his hands went numb, and the garden is in more disarray than usual. It wasn’t always […]