Moon Dance

Backache from moving tables ‘n cèilidhing about for hours amongst the mini-gourds ‘n flow’rs.

A Tanka As The Bells A-Peel

Please.

Oops…

To be honest… it was fine.

Relatively cold, this breezesome morning – bracing.

Their wake moves me.

I saw the sunset, seeping low, beyond the estate houses.

We’re citizens alike, subject to rule of cracked ‘n flawed democracy!

Sunhat ‘n crabbing bucket – rock-pool girl! She watches where her sandaled-feet stone-stand.

Cuthbert’s hermitage surrounded: seals slipslide ‘n slumber strandside.

I’m in two minds.

A-shambling through the queue.

Three men (dark-eyed) at th’fire’s edge.

Yah nough, don’t yuh?

I’ve left some leaflets ‘n some booklets.