TUESDAY 22
The lawn is green and
shiny after wet snow. Two plump
magpies skip across.
WEDNESDAY 23
The phlebotomist
finds a vein. The point goes in,
red fills up the tube.
THURSDAY 24
A smiling mouth with
round owl-eyes in the foam on
my cappuccino.
FRIDAY 25
Tiny cyclamens
and a discarded Christmas
wreath at the dovecote.
SATURDAY 26
The train passes banks
studded with white cups, plastic
nets strung on hedges.
SUNDAY 27
Windy sunshine turns
spindly tree trunks into streams
running down the hill.
MONDAY 28
The mirror in the
car in front nods its head when
the driver turns round.
Seventeen 