WITH A SONG IN MY HEART

By lizzie_birkett

A month on…

…and still Putin wages his cruel and crazy war on Ukraine. The man has no heart, no soul, no empathy or compassion and no conscience.

Frank is still testing positive but feels OK, still coughing and feeling a bit tired. Still, he made a big pan of curry and a soup to take with us tomorrow.
The rest of the clan are fine with us joining them at the house as are the owners who said they deep clean after every visitor anyway. It is Frank’s birthday celebration for his 70th last year when we couldn’t meet up so he wants to be there! The rest of the family have all recently had Covid - except me! The house is also on it’s own and miles from anywhere.
I don’t know whether we should be going or not - everyone seems to have Covid wherever we are.

I moved a pot today and saw slaters (woodlice) under them. They started to scurry to get out of the sun so I quickly put the pot back again.
Then the poem started to take shape in my mind.
Talking of shape. My poem yesterday was in the shape of a tree but when I checked it on my phone it was just all over the place and nothing like a tree.  So I made it just straight up and down instead.

83/365 
Slaters

Tiny prehistoric creatures
Descendants of the sea
Do your instincts tell you
That’s where you should be?

Hiding in the wet beneath
Plant pots and fallen trees
Feasting on decaying wood
And last years Autumn leaves

You are natural recyclers
Wee compost making machines
Nourishing our garden soil
Feeding our flowers and greens.

Goodnight :-)X

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