It's Still Life

6 Sept ’26: A Week of Everywhere Poems

I.
“they’re called flittermouse,”
I tell him,

as two bats
play with twilight.

II.
he eats an apple
that the wind knocked
from the tree.

one foot
rests on a step,

the other leg
spans four.

III.
sunset caught
in a cloud
racing against the clock
toward France.

IV.
the windows open
to the white sound of wind
the lawn finds green
again
slowly.

V.
a magpie’s voice
catches the wind
singing autumn colours.

VI.
the grooves of tyres
spin rain across the road,

the wipers
slap.

VII.
wasps in the birdbath
drinking.

birds perched,
staring.

VIII.
like savile row,
roof measured up
for solar panels.

the house
stands
still.

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Everywhere Poems don’t have a subject. They have a starting point and follow wherever attention leads. It’s — go for a walk and see where you end up.

Some images created with Midjourney; all writing is my own original work.©Misky 2006-2026.