It’s been hot as summer for the last few days, but there are storms in the offing for the weekend, so, as I’ve been too busy to write, I’ll post a couple of sunny pictures to brighten the page:
a spattering of free-range broom in egg-yolk yellow speckles the hillside
rock roses like fried eggs with careful ketchup drips on every petal
(I wanted to call them ‘over easy eggs’ because of the meter, but then I’d have had to spell it ‘catsup’ and I can’t bring myself to do that.)
don't confuse the narrator 