My Diary

I got up late, looked at the alarm clock (who was practising for a turn in the horn section of the Count Basie band) and got up like a white feather in a martial snow storm. Downstairs Neptune was whittling a piece of wood into the shape of a bottle nosed dolphin (he called it a fish which explains everything about the demise of ancient gods) and I left hand in hand with his consort. She wanted to go to the ice-lands to light a candle and I came home again holding a red poppy; unfortunately as I was wearing a helium balloon as a coat I had nowhere to pin it – I did however see the dove again, flying very high. I talked to the good and bad book seller on the way home and entered the house as a hawk man, cradling memories instead of young children.


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