6 July

three used teaspoons on the counter their light glinting

another heavy grey morning the softness of its rain on my fingers

driving home to The World At One so much sadness under these swallows’ tails

the manse through raindrops on the skylight for a moment just impressions of brown

bare branches of a dead tree at the field edge a gathering of crows

washing raspberries I hold the wetness of the water in my hands

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