Monday 27 March 2023

Thoughts of Last Year's Memories.




It’s night and the field alongside the house is empty.


Tomorrow, as the sun rises, there will be deer grazing but now it holds nothing except the dark and the memories of the day.


And a bat.


The bat has slept all day in the cellar, diligently ignoring the comings and the goings of people looking fot wood, or tools, or space.


Now the bat has the field and the day’s memories to itself.


Under the pine tree on one side, a caravan sits.


Also empty.


Also full of memories.


Summer ones.


It is waiting for someone.


Possibly some two; at this point in time , and distance, it is difficult to say.


Or maybe someone, far away today , is waiting for it .


To be here again, and in the embrace of last year when things were easier.


Softer.


Innocent.


A step has been stepped, a page has been turned and the new one , for now, is blank.


No words.


Only thougts.

 


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