There’s a weather break, or a break
in the weather. The sky has cleared
and the rain has stopped. Or is that
the sun starting up again?
What a delicate business this is,
half-filling a half-empty glass,
claiming direction over nonchalance,
enduring summer for winters’ sake.
I’d heard about things like this –
terraced houses, feeling old
at parties, that there are squirrels
in the parks.
I saw one today, squirreling
and I wondered why I don’t try
that too. With things,
like happiness, for instance.
Before I knew it, Monday
had come and gone, been
and done, like day-light
robbery. But there’s always
another. Soon it will be
the Monday after
and there’ll be time
for this, that and the other.