I wake with the great stanzas of life swimming
in my head, I’m standing by a tree, sitting by a river
or a canal, beside this cathedral of poetry.


These words are showered and dripped into place.
I’m dried and pruned and I wheelchair the wheel-
chair to the window of tomorrow today.


The rain is falling thick and fast it’s dripping
from that felt. The trees above are like hig-ill-dy
pig-ill-dy branches sceptres and pitch-
forks battling sky.


The man-made nursery nursed trees go straight up and down
as if their Mother was a ruler a measuring-stick
and they had not yet met the harshness of the sky.
The splashing wheels go by and yell: “the roads are wet
don’t go out today’.


My poem for today is ‘Planet Earth’ by P.K. Page.
Wonderful images to wake to, beyond my tea toast and tablets
I pull the blind and a street sweeper drives by.


It’s as if my inner and my outer was being cleansed
teased out and care-esed softly smoothing out my surface.
thank you, you made my day, today.