a small stone

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 08:43:00 +0000

the thin piping sound of a bird from outside
makes me hungry for the hills

after service, stone passing

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 08:39:00 +0000

when I'm not watching, the fat church candle gutters & dies. we carry on talking.

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 08:38:00 +0000

I didn't write anything down: Tuesday is lost.

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 09:05:00 +0000

nothing more delicious than finding a sleepy cat & making him purr.... =^..^=

blind girl in Birmingham art gallery

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 09:05:00 +0000

she skims her fingers over the intricate stone sculpture, starting at the middle, working her way out. the woman reads information from the wall - dates, names. the man with them stands to one side, looking bored. the girl can't see him.

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 09:33:00 +0000

He's in the supermarket early, like me. He carries his own unwashed smell around with him like a planet with its own atmosphere. He hesitates in front of the fruit juice. This one, or this?

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Fri, 20 Jan 2012 09:33:00 +0000

a dry ache in my head, my blood sludgy, the sun comes up and goes down nonetheless.

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 08:57:00 +0000

The soil is dry. I empty the dregs of tea into the bathroom sink and fill the mug with water. I carry it into the office. I pour water into the pot, where it sinks down towards the roots. The plant drinks. What ordinary miracles.

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 08:58:00 +0000

'Can you bear it?'
'No!'
We go back to talking of everyday things. It cannot be born. And it must be.

Tsuki kitten, post-op

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 16:09:00 +0000

they have cut her open and taken something out. hours later she races around the house, wanting food, wanting to play, wanting to go outside. her stitches look raw, frightening. her body is healing, all by itself. they have cut her open and taken something out.

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 16:02:00 +0000

scraped ice from the car backs up into sparkling concertinas.

miniatures from a morning walk

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 10:52:00 +0000

a red berry smeared on the pavement. a crop of tiny cyclamen, white & pink. letters scraped into a windscreen's ice. a smudge of reddish dog shit. three brushstroke people on the peak of the hill.

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 17:29:00 +0000

caroline bought me love tea in a fuchsia box: 'organic rose, chamomile & lavender flower tea to warm your heart'. heart warmed.

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 17:38:00 +0000

tangled shadow of dried poppies, long stalks & plump heads, each topped with a wiggly hat. as if someone has painted this intricacy onto the white wall. next to it, fake coals wink orange & lit gas makes snake tongues.

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 17:08:00 +0000

the skin of my eyes is taut & dry
as if scraped by a cold wind
I blink and smile

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 17:08:00 +0000

inside is a slice of chocolate marble cake, a pot of weak tea, our voices
we try to make sense of the tangled threads of our lives
outside is the wide world

at Caroline's pond

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 15:49:00 +0000

the memory of yesterday's kingfisher spotting
(my first)
returns in a brilliant flash of blue

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 15:49:00 +0000

in searching for a picture on the internet, I lose myself

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 11:03:00 +0000

Kaspa cleared last year's dead petunias, tall straw-coloured skeletons. What's left is bare brown earth. Lack and promise.

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 10:56:00 +0000

finding knots in her back with my fingertips and easing them out, like untangling string or ticking boxes, but accompanied by love

morning service

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 09:07:00 +0000

carrying the flame from candle to candle
trailing sketched echoes of light

sending out my attention in a circle

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 09:10:00 +0000

a cough from behind a closed door. radio noise. faint shadows of raindrops against the sky. fatty's black bottlebrush tail. my diary open at today, telling me what to do. my thirst.

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 08:58:00 +0000

Tsuki kitten shows us the white of her belly & purrs & purrs. She's on someone else's lap. I want her on mine.

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 08:57:00 +0000

incense minus fragrant smoke = dust

monday, malvern hills

noreply@blogger.com (Fiona Robyn) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 15:35:00 +0000

the bullying wind pushes at my coat and snatches at my breath. moss on the hill leans towards lime green. a half sliver of moon has been left behind from the night before, or arrived early. on the way home, we pass a tree overwhelmed with scarlet berries.