Early stroll. I carry a card in a bright red envelope. White line as art, road as gallery. The narrative of old
footprints in old concrete. A cat’s cold stare. Six shoes on a front doorstep.
Evening stroll. Woolly formations.
Not a Siskin
Quick - get the book.
Where’s the book?
Here. Rifle, shuffle,
Ruffle like a deck.
A flick of wet feathers,
Yellow underneath
Tending to beige?
Some dabs of zinc.
A jubilant trill?
Insistent sing-song?
But - oh - it’s gone -
A flutter of wings and pages.
Morn @imcmillan.bsky.social
Time stretched. Oil on card.
Early stroll. Sunlight bathing those trees. A pale rainbow’s curve. I am hooded. A man in a parked car scratches his head. Dropped 5p like a bright eye.