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Winter Stravaig (24b)
WINTER STRAVAIG
Huffish gusts
Umber and ochre
Rule the roost
Trudge through mulch
Swaddled in umpteen layers
Drool of buttered toast
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Weathercaster
WEATHERCASTER
She is my very own weathercaster
Drawing my attention away
Into some conjectured future
Conjuring up expectations
Tinkering with my emotions
Desire and disappointment
Elation, hope and fear
Stoking my imagination
Into creating or revising
My plans and proposals
I’m no longer in the room
I’ve left my body, marooned
Blind … I’m off remote viewing
Living an imaginary scenario
Any hint of current awareness
Has gone for a burton now
Sight, with the other senses
Has gone off line, no signal
A fake weather screensaver
Blocks out any true live contact
With the weather outside my window
British Summertime
BRITISH SUMMERTIME
Dawn’s promise broken
This short-sleeved shirt’s a mistake
What global warming?