A Mynah Bird in a small cage.
Jumping from perch to perch.
It didn’t seem natural to me.
They had taught it to swear.
And fell about laughing when it did.
I wanted to set it free.
A Mynah Bird in a small cage.
Jumping from perch to perch.
It didn’t seem natural to me.
They had taught it to swear.
And fell about laughing when it did.
I wanted to set it free.
Who knew, when they started blogging.
That other bloggers could become great friends.
Never met, never spoken to. No matter.
But no less cared for and loved.
And their loss no less heartbreaking.
(In memory of Sue Vincent)
Clocks forward.
We had our summertime clock change at 02:00.
So when I woke up when it as still dark at 6am, it was actually 7am.
That still felt to early and dark to get up, so I managed to get back to sleep.
I must have needed that sleep, as I didn’t wake up again until 9:45am.
Which of course was now 10:45am. Confused? I was.
It all reminded me of this old song, from 1969.
Scruff didn’t seem to want to go out that day.
But he clipped on the lead anwyay.
“Come on, old boy. Time to go to the shops”.
Walking around town, the small terrier got attention.
And when he came out of the shops, people would be stroking old Scruff.
Then he got to talk to them too.
If only for a moment.
House dusted and tidied by eight every morning.
Then she washes and dresses, adds some make-up too.
Two slices of toast, and a cup of tea.
Plate and cup washed and dried of course.
She opens the curtains, to be able to see the front path.
There might be a visitor today.
They hadn’t seen him for a week.
Post sticking out of the letterbox.
Milk delivered but not taken inside.
The police were called, and forced entry.
An old man, naked and dead. Face down on some plastic.
The plastic of a now deflated, inflatable doll.
An undignified departure from this life.
The rental van was packed.
She stood at the door as I drove away.
“I suppose this is goodbye”.
Is only ever said in films.
As I stopped at the junction.
I was wondering. ‘Did she cry?’
“Would you boys like tea?”
“I couldn’t wake him up this morning”.
“Sixty years we have been married, next week.”
“Do either of you take sugar?”.
I had to sit her down.
To tell her he was dead.
The budgie was looking in its mirror.
Bright blue, with white on its head.
Making squeaking noises at its reflection.
The millet hanging between the bars of the cage.
I wanted to set it free.
He is not having the vaccine.
“They put nanobots inside you”.
He told me.
I thought about that.
And decided.
I quite like the idea of having nanobots.