Such a struggle to get into work today. It’s always the same after the delicious taste of freedom in the bank holidays, groan. Anyway, here’s today’s poem:
After the fire
for a long time,
that the flame
is beaten away
and you are left only
with the taste
of old prayers
Meanwhile, amidst the gloom, I am catching up on emails and attempting to make sense of what I did last week. Hmm, don’t wait up then is my advice. Am also desperately trying to sort out an urgent meeting happening next week, but the people I need to contact just won’t bite. Sigh … Plus I also have 101 (at least) other meetings to arrange, with yet more people who don’t appear to want to attend them much. Really, it’s rather grim.
Managed to slip out to do a spot of shopping at lunchtime, and then went back to Tesco for yet more shopping this evening. Dear me but my life is just one existential thrill after another. Thank goodness that The Fixer is back on TV tonight – I did always enjoy that one.
I’ve read the latest edition of poetry & short story magazine, Tears in the Fence, and wasn’t greatly impressed, I have to say. Though I did like Peter Riley's Snow in a Silver Bowl (haiku-like verses about nature and journeys), Lori Jakiela's short story about a very off-beat wedding, Kegger, plus John Torrance's tour-de-force poem about Rothko, and Jeremy Reed's Book Thieves. But there wasn't much competition. I think I might not renew my subscription next time it comes up. I fear it’s not as good as it once was.
Today’s nice things:
3. Being at home – eventually.
Anne Brooke – longing for home
Thorn in the Flesh – when home isn’t quite what you want it to be …