Arnside

A brief stop on my way to Lancaster, thinking of gladders, and after a bewilderment of a day/week, cremation, back to work, first anniversary, interview, new job. I've got a strange feeling I'm in some alternative reality, or an extra in The Matrix. 
Returned late via my friend's to sink a bottle and have some bread and soup.

On top of all that it was National Poetry Day with the theme of 'Messages'. Here's Carol Ann Duffy's poem, 'Text'....

Text

I tend the mobile now
like an injured bird

We text, text, text
our significant words.

I re-read your first,
your second, your third,

look for your small xx,
feeling absurd.

The codes we send
arrive with a broken chord.

I try to picture your hands,
their image is blurred.

Nothing my thumbs press
will ever be heard.