walking home
I sneeze
two birds fly out of a tree

work cafeteria
we wait in silence
for the toaster

in heavy rain
a dog barks
at the borders of sleep

breakfast view
an apartment block blind
reveals shielded eyes

the canal boat’s wake
cancelled out
by the swan

scrutinized at the checkout
the twenty pound note
from my frayed fingerless gloves

early sunday morning
a barking dog
shushed along the street

after sunset
two jet planes drawing light
from the horizon

passing a stranger -
by cupping yawns
we salute

avoiding the wet patch -
a drop of condensation
finds my cup

end of the working week
a line of geese
skim over the tree top

two carrots
on the grass verge
- the last of the snowmen