Thursday, 13 March 2025

it just is

 it just is


and there it is in front of me

three stone pots of daffodils 

  no wait

four pots 

in the slightest breeze

the gentlest of morning sunshine

the softest of frosts

everything nodding in agreement

except my snoozing cat

awaiting the return of the long-tailed tits


  oh the blue 

leaching from the day

the equinox fox has garnered

every russet of last year’s conkers 

burnished along its chosen paths


  ahhh 

the aroma of coffee long

across the visage of this day

turning to the cake stand 

all the delights are tiered in their doilies 

the finger that pointed out the flowers

is licked clean of its cream 


if this is not the icing on my day

then what is


not one cloud answers

all are snoozing with the cat

nothing matters at all


it just is

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