The sun glows orange
The sky is grey blue and soft
Sun is too bright for my eyes.
Mend a camera
Wondering if I can eat
My insides are sore.
Anti-semitism
Makes me feel sad nowadays
Will it ever go?
I got the runs bad
And I can’t run any more
I feel young inside though.
That sun still glares out
Sylvia Plath could deal with it
But it’s too strong now
It’s the sideways burn
The direct line to the brain
Red hot retina.
Mine are a problem
Yet I can see the lines of your face
Love you more and more
You are absent now
But I can remember love
Cleveland Hills pull hearts.
Lying in heather
Never noticed the hot sun
Only your buttterflies
They floated by us
All afternoon;later found
We lay near a cliff!
A woman drove us
To Teesside by old Yarm Lane
Out of sheer kindness.
How my heart sings 