It's a resigned peace that can't be faked,
it's the beautiful afternoon of perspective,
a Sunday walk through leaves, a lawn to be raked.
I'm pottering about the house in my jumper
in a perpetual weekend of low sunlight,
half-hearted light, reading the newspaper
to the tick-tock of the oven warming up.
Evening is still a way off, the other side
of the big game, or the big movie, or book;
right now's agenda is something I decide.
Life is a muddy track to home and tea
with night quickly falling in the combe.
But if you slow down, nightfall slows too,
and you're home free by early afternoon.
[ Home Free ]
Contact
info@robertselby.co.uk
Web Design
mark@manifesto-design.co.uk