piles of paper
overflow from my desk
to my table –
as if I could feast on
the written word (I can)
20/11/25
memory
wanders on the outskirts
of town
along the river bank
of my childhood
21/11/25
dark moon
in the month and sign
of my birth –
not surprising I’m loath
to tidy my house
21/11/25
good intuition
he says when (next door) I guess
he was painting –
no, art gives a certain
quality to the silence
21/11/25
‘poor little girl’
I think, of my friend
who died young —
a woman strong and free
but I know her childhood
23/11/25
the hot is here
I put on my sarong
tie it firm —
thin cotton towel I bought
long ago in India
24/11/25
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