January

TUESDAY 1

Dogs still out. By the

park, lights on in the Chinese

and the pizza shop.

WEDNESDAY 2

Avoid stairs, listen

to the cough bouncing off the

steel walls of the lift.

THURDAY 3

A brown Green Man on

my iPad screen, eyes peeping

from behind the apps.

FRIDAY 4

Boots, grey trousers, two

white jumpers, red alpaca

cowl, beret, tweed coat.

SATURDAY 5

Lying here, coughing,

in a dream where I’m stuck on

a bus in Cheltenham.

SUNDAY 6

Pine cones, evergreens,

holly berries, first wreath I’ve

hung for years, come down.

MONDAY 7

The grapes are green, cold.

My teeth peel them, I swallow

crushed juice from their flesh.