Detail of St Michael by della Francesca
a sword near his groin with blood smeared on the fat tip
Feathers and more feathers on the path
Moult or preen or sparrowhawk
The red laundry box full of ants
taken in among clothes from the line in the garden
The honest note of the bell
so clear in the dusk
I can feel the tongue strike metal
like striking me hitting more than a nerve
Something at the centre of my life
The bell means something is awake
in this case night
I look back at the gate to blossom
I have been among but don't look long
I am buried in the thoughts of mayflowers
They are not offered to me I am offered to them
Dad said love you to bits as he ended the phone call
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N.B. In my practice of '6 things,' I will often write more than 6 things, sometimes, on drier days, less. The point is fluidity and an absolute willingness to allow and listen. Sometimes the 'things' come from memory, sometimes the present, sometimes from what I am listening to on my phone as a I walk. No need for narrative, but feeling is imperative.