Holy Saturday - the Easter day we somewhat tend to
take for granted; just hoovered the floor, a task made
easier when th’ dogs are confined outdoors on a dull,
likely to drizzle but quaintly misty morning - the sun’s
made an honorary appearance brightening dew drop
decorations in the trees suggesting a chance we get
a load of washing out now - maybe it’ll dry - maybe -
but more likely a hasty retrieval and relocation; but
Them’s the breaks on this Holy Saturday, one where
we plan a quiet assault on accumulated rubbish with
a mid-morning dump-trip highlighting this new mode
of up-country living; we’re free to recycle whatever it
takes to make proper choices resound gratefully but
empty wine and beer bottles forsake it anyway …
© 4 April 2015, I. D. Carswell
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