the grey ribbon
of the road flows
down through the village
dissecting the two sides
here on the sunny side
days are longer and brighter
away from the shadow
of the dark hill
lower down
the road swings
round the church
a walled island
protected from the rush
and houses moored
to the road-river
bob gently in the wind

small lives

accidental glimpses
of moments not mine
a glance into tv-lit living room windows
conversations half heard from passers by
freeze-framed arm-waving distant arguments
a fractious child crying and mother’s strained calm
small snippets collected
like a photo mosaic
building a picture
of other lives
filed in my memory
marked miscellaneous
so many people
just passing each other
me in my small life
and you there in yours