Wednesday, 10 October 2012

Suburban Dream

The sun's risen, and already it looks good on the outside.

Waving goodbye to the faint crescent moon, the soft note of the winter light hits my eyes.

October already and no ice in sight - what we need is a Titanic.

Hot noodles at dawn and down to the field to harvest my irregular shaped aubergine, stunted growth, the lack of summer sun, hanging like large, purple, tears upon the stem.

Tomatoes, potatoes, were blighted by the prolonged, warm, rain, that bred the spores in sightless trillions and fell about the land doing what they do best.

I long for the changing seasons of youth, and the unpoisoned, carbon free air of my suburban dream.


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