The last time

A dark barn,last roses on the side,stems

made a pattern like golden wire.

Homemade cakes and jam…

Bags of red potatoes,

Shining onions,each large enough to make a tart

Garlic and apples..

A smiling woman..

Pay in cash…

Then through a low door

Into the cafe

Views over the fields to the high Ridgeway

where cars are silhouetted against the sky

like ants on fallen tree trunk.

Now we drink coffee and chat…

So good to get out after a month of colds….

Snatch each chance of light and sun.

In the car, we do a circuit

High then down the long hill

Back to the familiar town

seen in a new light.

Gazing out I see some sparrows

What a little life,but so precious