8
Snow, sleet, drizzle wrap
the birch tree skeleton in
a veil of droplets.
9
My finger slips and
returns 2021
tolost 2012.
10
I contemplate cake
from the park café but the
distanced queue is long.
11
My fourth bone marrow
biopsy, the pleasure of
breathing gas and air.
12
The shortest six weeks
of the year over but the
day darkened by cloud.
13
I pull up my hood
against the drizzle, weave round
solitary walkers.
14
Outside, children not
in school having playtime just
as twilight falls down.
Seventeen 