TUESDAY 17
Watching the sky grow
darker blue in the Bullring
around St Martin’s.
WEDNESDAY 18
People on the bus
outbidding each other for
how much they have spent.
THURSDAY 19
Struggling against rain,
I fail to recognise the
car that’s come for me.
FRIDAY 20
Kids released from school
for Christmas prance between the
pools on the pavements.
SATURDAY 21
I wish the robin
wasn’t artificial. Then
it flies round the room.
SUNDAY 22
Four in the morning,
the world turns back, mirrors the
light from yesterday.
MONDAY 23
The fuchsia I’ve watched
since summer still has half a
dozen purple blooms.
Seventeen 