Chipper almost blasé,
only 297 today
announced like a fisherman’s catch,
almost disappointedly,
the daily briefing
I strain to hear from the patio,
the insides of my eyelids blaze
pink from the early evening sunset,
the day is finally weakening, soon
the smell of supper
and the pithy grip of dry white wine,
that’s good to hear I say,
it might be all over by Christmas.
*
© Graham Sherwood 05/2020
grahamrichardsherwood.co.uk 