Fractious At The Double Roundabout

The lane is a problem. It looks lovely, it wrecks cars and shoes. We need to be a bit richer to live here, we could get a machine to level out the pot holes. We bought a pick axe but it's a long slow job... However, watching people get fouled by the double roundabout usually restores any lost sense of humour.  

Another petit-repetition, as I collect
My sparsely previously packed bag, my coat
My list, kiss Mr on the back of his distracted
Head, push my feet into rubber boots

Find the mist trimmed to a
Decorative edge, an embellishment
Rather than landscape disguise. Pheasants
Parade their colours to disinterested sheep

Several shapes of leaf bridge
Overhead, I look up, an oak branch
Is cracked, action will be necessary
Before accident or obstruction occurs

Drag my boot-soles up the lane terrain
Bumped and pot holed and unpopular
Despite the picturesque nature, but this
Is the view that distracts, that balances

Random finds the most
Rewarding; a city of stacked
Mushroom towers
Syfy in my hedge

Two cigarette butts, the mass
Produced kind; not stamped on, not stubbed
Dropped adjacent to the empty bottle. Eyes in my
Reflection frown, contemplative

I have seen then here before
Factory workers, watching the sky
After twelve hours of putting identical
Pies into identical boxes

Barely a rustle from the papery wasp-nest
Two thirds up, in the granite dry-stone
One occupant is returning
Unsure of the weather

Here is the top of the lane, step
Out from the leaf roof, onto
Neat line edged smooth levelled
Tarmac; surface calm

Here comes traffic getting
Somewhere, stalled
Flummoxed, fractious
At the double roundabout 


Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

E, That Was Funny

A Candle Lit