TheBanyanTree: No more sighs

[John Bailey]

Tuesday June 15, 2004

NO MORE SIGHS

"We've woken to a cloudy and overcast day..." said the young woman on the 
early TV local weather slot.

I looked up at the cloudless blue sky stretching, seemingly, all the way to 
Mars, perhaps beyond, and commiserated with her. "It must be dreadful for 
you, luv," I said, very quietly so's not to wake the rest of the household.

And then I set to work at my desk, with the new curtain sheers drawn across 
to keep the sun from burning my arm and making the screen too difficult to see.

Later on the sky did indeed become overcast, and the temperature dropped 
like lead shot from a tower. I suspect it's no more than a temporary 
respite in the hot spell but it's nonetheless welcome for that. Hot, humid 
weather and my heart and lungs don't get along too well.

So, anyway, having no need to go out, and less inclination, I stayed home, 
read my book and now and again pottered around the garden, looking deep 
into the heart of the new poppies. I'm sure there's a secret there but I'm 
not sure my hearing is up to understanding it any more.

It may be that if I turn my attention elsewhere my hearing and my 
understanding will return. It could even be that by the same means my muse 
will come a'knocking.

Whatever, I'm fed up with waiting. I'm too old for the alone, pale and 
thingummy languishing scene, or whatever dis-remembered quote there is 
floating around in my mind to describe this state of sad, eternally 
unproductive complaining. I shall get on with my garden and my photography. 
I know where I am with a trowel in my hand or a shutter button under my finger.

Seriously, do I care? [Can you sense a long pause there?] No, I really 
don't think I do. Time is too short, and I'm too old and far too creaky to 
go up garret and sit sighing at the moon.

--

John Bailey   Lincolnshire, England

journal of a writing man:
<http://www.oldgreypoet.com>