After my last demoralising participation in a poetry workshop recently I am putting my head back on the block this week. I love RV Bailey’s poetry, and am hoping to put back the zest in my own after a week in her company at the Mill with other poets, starting this morning. So I shan’t be around much this week to read and respond to your posts. Apologies in advance for those I miss.
There’s a snail outside my bedroom window
glued to the glass for dear life.
He’s been inching up since I woke
an hour ago. He reached the top,
curled his head against the frame
and now he’s slithering sideways.
I wonder what he’s looking for.
He reminds me of George Formby,
though it’ll be me cleaning the windows.