Spring onion

I got back late from Cockermouth and dug one of my first spring onions.

It’s been a disorientating day with an odd sense of time. A glimmer of a possibility when my manager asked if I’d be prepared to pick up some face to face work in the east, possibly, temporarily. All a bit vague at the moment.

Now just come in from a long chat out the front of the house with John who I haven’t seen to speak to since last April https://www.blipfoto.com/entry/2693937781712883359
He was very sweet when we were talking about local properties and how he said he always sees this place as A’s and P’s cottage and made some suggestions about trying to get things moving or keeping his ear to the ground generally.

e.e.cummings

without the mercy of
your eyes your
voice your
ways(o very most my shining love)

how more than dark i am,
no song(no
thing)no
silence ever told;it has no name-

but should this namelessness
(completely
fleetly)
vanish,at the infinite precise

thrill of your beauty,then
my lost my
dazed my
whereful selves they put on here again

- to livingest one star
as small these
all these
thankful(hark)birds singing wholly are