The light fell slowly,
or so it seemed to me then,
standing in the sun.
It’s slow warm kindness,
kissed my skin in a warm glow,
like a summers day.
The night time sneaked in,
without a fanfare or cheer,
more a dimming down.
The papers edge curled,
concealing the faint writing,
placed in the corner.
A fresh mug of tea,
sits hot and longing nearby,
waiting to be sipped.
The days are longer,
each one now claims five minutes,
of extra daytime.
I need distractions,
to focus on the main things,
and finish them off.
I begin too much,
this and that and some music,
it’s just this and that.
The tea has cooled now,
and there’s a frown on the side,
where the teas dipped down.
It try not to waste,
my time on doing nothing,
but work get me close.
The shutters are closed,
it’s evening and breeze blows through,
dusty narrow slates.
Somewhere there’s music,
a tinkle of piano,
and an oldtime song.
