I went for a brief walk this morning and was struck by how eminently English** everything seemed.
First of all, although not actually raining, it was so dark and wintry that the streetlights were on despite the fact it was nearly 10am:
socket it to me
EDIT: Of course the title should say socket to me. Having posted it with the typo in, though, I shall be honest and leave it “as is.”
When I travel, I still try and keep working, so am pleased that many trains now provide electrical sockets where I can plug in my computer.
The labelling of this one intrigued me, though:
Continue reading “socket it to me”
from a railway carriage
In case anyone who read Boxing Day (posted on December 26th) might be envious of me enjoying glorious sunshine on an exotic beach, let me clarify that it was an old poem, and, as is usually the case, I am not the narrator.
To clarify further, this is a photo taken from the window of a train I was travelling on yesterday:
Continue reading “from a railway carriage”
the aftermath
Such gaily flashing lights!
Such bright fluorescent suits!
Wrapping paper brims from bags
and bundles stacked and glistening
in the rain.
(The rubbish men are back at work.)
Boxing Day
on a foreign shore: icing-tipped waves
toss tinsel into the clear air. We play
at Wenceslas in the sand, taking it in turns
to be the page. We look for sea holly and sing
carols under the curious gaze
of a parrot in a palm tree.
(Like the last couple of posts it’s not new. It’s also a repost, but I think the blog has different readers now. Incidentally, don’t waste time trying to find the parrot in the photo: it wasn’t actually that palm tree!)
don't confuse the narrator 