It's Still Life

One Minute and Thirty Seconds of Voyeurism

She’s out there crouched between
the winter twigs, climbing roses that
over-reach the wall, and tangles of
brittle-scented heather, and she’s
down there with weeds, nose-to-nose
with that electronic cat deterrent
guaranteed (or all your money back)
to scare away the cats, but the cats

keep coming back, spines arching
like soup spoons, the way cats go
soiling the roses and those stubby
palm plants, and why would anyone
plant palms in Sussex, but anyway
she’s got her 2 bags of horse manure

on a hand trolley, and a stiff bristle
broom resting against the brick wall,
and so I think . . . this is what’s meant
by easy listening because she has
earphones stuck in and she can’t hear
her husband calling down to her from
the upstairs window. That’s the way
you go about it – a bit of easy listening.

Stream of Consciousness Saturday , including “Way to go.” Gardener’s Gloves and Shears by Marsden Hartley 1937. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter