There were workmen, drilling, maybe not all the time. There were blue tits and robins nesting, a blackbird singing. We identified many of the plants in the border. The dogwood should have been cut back harder. In six months everything will be different. The present moment lends itself well to excitement. It also informs our preferences and choices. The train guard will be different this time. Trees have blown over, just outside of town. We waited nearly an hour at the platform and talked about waiting, about how to wait, about how to listen, how to see. Those Sixties suburban bungalows seem nice. Some architectural aesthetics prevail. I will not read or write poetry all week. This will provide an aperture. Goodbye Lavenham, goodbye Sudbury. We will continue to talk.
MW Bewick 