blue. blue bus-stop
I have always loved this idea for a 'spare room' - an old tram. I believe the owner is someone I went to Brownies with, in Riversdale, Northern Southland - a very long, long time ago now.
The wax-yes are very greedy and they keep the bellbirds and tuis from ever getting a look-in. They are small but they work on the principle of 'crowd sourcing' to make sure they maintain their dominance over any food supply. Safety in numbers is definitely their mantra.
In a small way I found the poem encouraging. Keep writing, it says. Keep writing. (But not necessarily poetry, I tell myself, not necessarily poetry).
steps up to nowhere (or so it appeared)
I called into 'Brew' for a coffee. There I wrote a little bit in a notebook. Thoughts & impressions. At the moment, what I am writing is prose. Somehow it seems to me to be a kinder master than poetry. Poetry is all uphill. Poetry is too many steps leading up to nowhere. At this stage of my life I owe it to myself to take the easier path.