My Friend Ronnie....

....was chopping wood
while the wind and the snow howled outside.

He said I was only taking photographs in the hope
that I'd get one of him chopping off his finger. Or two.
Or even a hand.

I said no I wasn't. And kept taking photographs.

Eventually he screamed: "I'll give you a good shot."
and rushed at me with the ax.

Ronnie is a Potter.
He'd been making pots all day.
People say that Pottery is theraputic.
It doesn't seem to have done much for Ronnie.

Could have been my last blip.

No. That would have been yesterday.