The bench arrival has been
postponed. I ordered from a
website that did look ok
and they have warned me of the
delay, but disappointment
fringes my hopes and caution
hems my imagination.
The empty space accuses
me while I hover with my
morning tea and I take in
a different perspective
catching sight of the bluebells
creeping now towards the gap.
Creeping from the woody shade
of beech and laurel, into
dry heat of the mosaic path
passing the kitchen window.