I’m not here. I’m here. 

I’m not here,

I’m here.

Bike slowly rolling down the hill

Watching the yellow changing, golden changing fields

and it’s bales and it’s bright blue cloud dotted backdrop

and it’s stick figures.

I’m smiling at summer’s last swallows

Waving at cats lazing in driveways

Laughing down roads marked ‘unsuitable for motor vehicles’

Eating sandwiches on hilltops, by fence posts, on stiles.

In short – I’m not here.

I’m here.

1 thought on “I’m not here. I’m here. ”

Leave a Reply to Barnaby Nutt Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s