All Over

The past is all over me like a rash
like an ache
I'm in school uniform,
I'm in Doc Martens,
I'm crossing the road at the lights near that flat,
waiting for the postman day after day in another,
running down three flights of stairs
to see what he has brought me,
waiting for my mother, in a house I scarcely remember,
to return from hospital to pick me up,
which she can't.

This Wednesday in March must be about my 200th.

Half And Half

Equinox: when the tilt of the earth's axis is inclined neither away from nor towards the sun. 


The sun has shone in at the windows, first one, then the other, this equinox -
the centre of the sun is in the same plane as the equator
and we're in balance, twelve hours dark twelve hours light.


I live on a planet that spins in space, held here by gravity.
They broke it to me gently when I was five years old
in brown school uniform. It's a spinning ball, going round the sun.
God!

Try

Is there something I'm not saying? Waking up and trying to remember all the dreams in which I was on the wrong train with the wrong ticket, unable to gather my possessions quickly enough to get off the train in order to catch another one going back the other way.

A scarf over the back of a chair can break your heart.

Tomorrow the vernal equinox.

Search

Daffodils in a vase on the table, like dancers with their arms out, hands spread, a flourish, a fanfare. The sun catches them morning and afternoon, through the two windows and they glow, transfigured.

I feel dull and can't lead myself out of a small enclosure.

I sip sauvignon blanc, plan to eat apple crumble, to search for holiday cottages.

Dancing

I stand in front of a wood burning stove, dancing very slightly, my back to the heat, looking out at rain and blossoms, hearing accordion music and the voices of friends. The smell of baked potatoes and apple crumble. Cats asleep on the sofas.

Riz

It's
light at 6.30 at both ends of the day
sometimes warm enough without the heating
time to plan a holiday
almost a year since I went out Census collecting

There are
broad bean seeds germinating in pots
tiny flies with wide wings on the lane
goldfinches in the garden
cows in the field
daffodils on the verges
blossoms on the trees
sparrows viewing our nesting box

Lamb

March comes in like a lamb, with the first sunshine, as I open the curtains, for more than a week. Forecast is for sleet on Sunday, however! I'm off down south for a couple of days to see my mother. A new chapter begins.