In summer eves

the flowers have languors of
middle aged men, and suffer as do souls with too much work

(With apologies to Jean Lahore)

Did not rise too early today, preferred instead to manage my frailty with sleep, and made my way to work at a civilised hour; and having had a morning of the usual dispiriting problem solving, drove with two colleagues to a briefing that left me feeling even more concerned about the state of play that is all things NHS. Came home just after lunch and fought numerous battles with flaky broadband, foreclosing software and and a never ending email box.

I wish I could climb into this and fall asleep...