should go outside more

to

            watch the life cycle

of the camellia

                                    triptych

of bud, bloom and half-buried in the dirt

painted                        every September afresh

and close-by

(to the pair of them, one with big floppy flowers

like coral

            the other

                                    with tight, streaky ones

finely detailed cameos)

                                                the half-dead cherry blossom

whose limp rotten fingers drop and litter the ground

(or at least, did

                                    until I swept them up yesterday)

(O, I see one I missed

                                    nosing through the leaf-litter and low weeds

poking through

                        the gravel

like a cute little shark

                                                come to suck in

air)                        knobs

            of sap                        glistening darkly

towards the west                        (it’s afternoon)
looking up, a few clouds have wisped their way

into the window of sky above me,

previously solid blue

and a strange white aircraft is in motion,

must be far away                        because so small

but round? maybe a helicopter…

                                                            no,

a helium balloon (I can see its string

            as it                                                spins),

and, I realise,

                                    not so far away; just small

then it’s out of sight

            replaced

                                    by a milling gang of gulls

who go the same way as the balloon

                        as do                        the clouds

solid blue again
I’ve been living here for four years,

            why

                        haven’t I done this more

my housemate Leanne’s

                                    plastic green recliner

called me today, in the sun

(though I moved it into the shade after a while, rather than find

my sunglasses, or risk sunburn,

                                                tired

                                                            of shielding, obscuring

my sight with my arms)

                                    Now,

                                                I am in the shade

wondering how much longer

                                                I will live here

whether

            I will have a backyard

                        one that I don’t have to share

(with the rest of the building)

in the next

                        10 years

even though

                        this one is almost entirely concrete

and

            not much bigger

                                    than the kitchen
playing Grouper’s Ruins through a portable speaker

            plugged into

                        my phone, Liz’s

utterances

                        via voice, via piano, via

                                    recording of her space

weaving gently in

                        with the utterances of Seddon

            on Sunday,

                                                mainly

whistling, unseen birds

                                                (small parrot-like things, probably)

cars pulling in and out of parking spots

and swishing by in the distance

            (though quieter now—well past the brunching hour)
I’m enjoying my weekend

                                                too much

            soon, I will go inside

                        sit at the dining room table

                                    and

mark assessment tasks

                        (“corrections”, as the older teachers still say)

(what’s better, the jargon or the euphemism?)

but first

                        I will move

                                    into the sunlight

lie back,

            suspended by a chair woven of green strings

                        and watch

                                                            what floats by

on a Sunday

                        in September