TUESDAY 17th MARCH 2009.

I drank in proportion to the chores done,
And found myself trying to bend the clouds out of the way
Of the sun that was somewhere above. Upon the work of
An obviously more industrious person than I the sky
Awoke and shed its suffocating bed dress and
The people in the street approved:
“When I look there are colours everywhere”
Said a child to his mother,
“My feet are hotter for it”
Said another, and I’m thinking, if I’ve managed
The function of my life without trying for this long, what could
I have done with a little effort, a bit more composure, instead
Of dozing in the day too often and feeling self satisfied
With the smallest achievement. The sun staggers,
And bedraggles us, then scrapes us
Off the earth, shaping and re-baking until
Warmed through once more,
And I, for one, would like
To applaud its faith.