Breathe out. Breathe in.
Hang out the family washing;
a semaphore to the kind
observances of neighbours.
A frog leaps refugee cross the lawn
amusing playful cat:
Black games of pause-and-pounce.
Match pegs to the weight
and size of cloth.
That discarded Daily Mail
is re-cycled; wall-to-wall
lining for the guinea hutch.
Not really labour;
not Labour at all.
Winter whispers on the wind:
draw comfort round - a thin veil,
those curtains of self-esteem.
I wait on a rising moon
to silver our skeletal birch;
over rooftops strides Orion,
every other fortnight.
And hold your breath.
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