Blue sky with clouds

A poem I composed

About my allotment in the autistic writer’s group I am currently participating in/ I’m really pleased with it 🙂

 

Birdsong sprinkled in the background of the morning.

Blue vaulted above their heads when they looked up.

Brown hands and feet from the earth, brown faces and skin from the sun.

Calm; that was all they could describe at the time.

Green, the colour of their eyes, that met their eyes.

Music to get lost in, so needed at this time.

Peace, quiet and time alone, strangely essential under current circumstances.

Productive in a way that doesn’t involve tick boxes

Shit, mountains of the fucking stuff.

Silence.

Spade; an essential implement, but the process sometimes make you feel like one.

Vegetables, so delicious to eat.

 

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