Go, while you can

All the things will be waiting

The dust on the floor

Comes willingly to the pan

But only when swept

The plants lower their leaves

Pray for water

The dog barks

The washing lies about

They’ll all still be here

When you get back


While you can

*small adventure last week was very satisfying. You just have to go sometimes. I spent the day blueberry picking and untangling grapes, learnt a lot about an industry about which I knew very little. I write about it the magazine which will be published at the end of the month.

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