Before the rain,I gained a short walk to the Sunday store,
My cadence danced and skipped with the Sun and the hiss of rain soaked car tyres,
Just a little way,passed where Mrs Simms used to live,where her Peonies still live,
Then around to the black hill,into the car park,and met a happy dog with master and paper,
Such normal things,such Sunday things,such real things,such ordinary things,such good things,
Walked home,down the Ring of the wood,down passed where the manicured lawn and black bird stood,
My cadence lifted as if coat forgotten,I picked up pace to conceal my face from the Dancing drops of rain,
As I entered my front door,my dogs give welcomes galore,and enquirer of the cat next door,”she’s there,for sure”.